Dark Memories of an Undying Past - Translation
by Lady Bee
Summary: Those children who exchanged secret gifts and stolen kisses in an empty room no longer exist. AU JonxArya
1. Chapter 1

**Regrets collect like old friends**

**Here to relive your darkest moments**

**I can see no way, I can see no way**

**And all of the ghouls come out to play**

There was something nostalgic and cruel about that day. As if all the happy memories and all the painful thoughts come together in a single image. It was winter and that used to be their favorite season when Arya was a little girl and he little more than a boy of fourteen.

He didn't expect to see her again in those conditions. Didn't expect to see any of the cousins that way. Black was a color that matched the characteristic austerity of the Starks, but the meaning of the color was morbid.

Rickon cried copiously while hiding his face in Sansa's shoulder, who in turn tried to hide the dark circles under her eyes with sunglasses. Bran looked at the coffins with listless face and clung to the armrest of the wheelchair as if it was his last chance for salvation.

Robb was drunk. He punched and fought every wall possible before getting himself together and look like a worthy man at the funeral of his parents, but nothing would have been possible if Jayne hadn't helped.

Arya watched the funeral quietly and without shedding a single tear. It was disturbing to see someone with an explosive genius in such a state. Jon thought she was catatonic, or that was her particular way of dealing with loss. Even without crying, he didn't remember see her so fragile before. Arya looked like the kind of person who would face everything, but here, wearing black and dry eyes she looked like a porcelain doll.

The death of Eddard and Catelyn Stark would be the headlines of newspapers for months. Conditions of the murder that many believed be political related or track cover was still being investigated. The future of the younger children was still uncertain, and nobody knew what to do with three orphaned minors.

Robb would have a lot of work dealing with the company and managing the patrimony of his siblings while they were minors. Jayne was already seven months pregnant and still was doing everything possible to help her husband and in-laws, but there was a limit to everything.

It was hard for Robb to make that decision and even harder to ask such a favor to a cousin he hadn't seen for more than eight years. Even though the two of them hadn't had much contact in recent times, Jon still considered Robb as a brother, and his debt to Eddard Stark was still so big that he didn't feel prepared to deny anything the family of an uncle who raised him up until he was fourteen.

When the funeral was over and everyone gradually left the cemetery, Jon stood staring at the gravestones of his uncles with a twinge of pain. He hadn't known his own parents, but Eddard Stark was the closest thing he had in life. Arya was also there, staring at nothing whispering something to herself. Jon had a feeling it was an oath of vengeance and all he wanted was that his cousin gave up that idea and only allowed herself to weep and mourn for the time she thought necessary.

He approached her with careful steps on the snow and touched her shoulder. Arya turned to face him. She took a few seconds to recognize him completely, or just remember who he was. Jon pulled her sunglasses and when he did, Arya embraced him as if she was still the little girl of nine years he had left behind when he moved to England.

Jon kissed her forehead and let Arya embrace him as much as she thought necessary, as he stroked her back.

"Robb spoke to you?" Jon asked. His voice hoarse from trying to contain his own tears. Arya agreed with a nod. "I'm here to take you home. My lawyers have lodged at the paperwork. We traveled at the end of the week."

"No need to do that." She said in a choked voice. "I can manage alone."

"I do not doubt it, but no one should go through something like this alone." Jon lifted her face to face him. "Your father took care of me when I had no one. It's my turn to repay."

"I don't want your debt of honor or piety." Arya replied in a sour tone.

"I'm doing this because I care about you." Jon replied with security. "I know what's going on. I want to help and Robb is unable to take care of Bran, Rickon and you when he has to run the company, the marriage itself and the child who is to be born."

"Speak as if you didn't have your own empire to manage." She replied hurt. "I saw your picture in a magazine the other day. 'The man with the world in his hands' or something. Millionaire of the year and coveted bachelor. You certainly don't need an orphan cousin in your life.

"Let me decide what I need or not." Jon said holding her hand. "I know that everything is going too fast, but I'm here to take care of you. London is a good place to restart.

"I don't want to start over, I want revenge." She replied bitterly.

"You are too young to say such a thing." He led the way to the car that was waiting for them. "I'm sure my uncle would not like to hear you talking like that."

Arya paused and allowed Jon to lead her to the black car parked at the curb. A gentle snow began to fall again as the vehicle slid through the quiet streets on that cold day. She did not cry and he wondered if that was a wise idea.

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The farewell to her siblings was even worse than the funeral itself. Rickon clung to her, crying and asking her not to leave too. Bran was more sympathetic and tried to calm the younger brother while Sansa just made her latest recommendations to Arya. Robb asked her forgiveness for not having the structure to deal with everything at once, but assured that he would find a way if she said she wanted to stay.

Arya was not naive or even selfish to the point of making her brother to sacrifice himself that way, but she didn't agree with the Jon's offer to be her new guardian. However, the paperwork was prepared and Jon had a jet ready to take them to London.

She embarked silently and there were few words exchanged between them along the way. Ten hours of flight and Jon was determined to make an appointment with a psychologist for Arya to be accompanied by an expert.

"Sansa could stay with us a while." Jon suggested more or less at the half of the trip, tired of her silence stern. "What do you think?"

"She is crazy for classes to begging. All she wants is to stick her head in the studies and find a prince charming in Princeton. Until that happens, Littlefinger will take care of her." Arya replied with a shrug. "Honestly, you don't wanna see how long we can stay in the same environment without trying to slap each other."

"At least it's comforting to know that some things never change." Jon said quietly. "Have you thought about college options?"

"I have no idea." She replied apathetic. "Perhaps Administration. I'm good with that."

"If it's your will, I can hire you as an intern at the company to learn first-hand how things work." He said in an effort to look nice. "It was what Aemon did to me when I moved. Honestly, I think it was a good decision."

"Who is Aemon?" Arya asked finally showing some interest in what he was saying.

"My granduncle." Jon replied. "It was he who took care of my share in the company, along with your father. He also made sure I was well prepared and knew what to do when I received my inheritance."

"I will not inherit an empire." She said with a shrug.

"But will inherit a good slice of Stark enterprises and this is no small deal, Arya." He said seriously. "Robb may need your help in future."

"It makes little sense to think of a future now." She said in a whisper.

"It'll be all right. Trust me." He asked but he knew at that moment nothing could reach her, no matter his words or his supplications. There was little hope left in Arya and he hoped it was not too late to reverse the situation.

**And every demon wants his pound of flesh**

**But I like to keep some things to myself**

**I like to keep my issues strong**

**It's always darkest before the dawn**

He wanted to understand who she was now. Who was that girl who looked so much like a shadow of his past. A nostalgic memory and a ghost dragging chains. A mirror of many things he lived when he was an orphaned child who depended on the goodwill and kindness of others.

Arya didn't want his pity, his honor debts, neither his charity. She wanted justice and wanted her family and Jon couldn't give her neither one thing nor the other. And what about what he wanted? He wanted the nine years old Arya back. The little girl who hugged him and told funny stories about how she had helped the female team to win a football game or as her fencing teacher praised her. Unfortunately, that Arya had died along with Eddard and Catelyn and what was left was a slender girl, with gray eyes surrounded by dark circles, short dark hair, and a familiar face. She had changed little, but the most dramatic change was the lost of the smile that had always saved for him.

When they came to London the next morning, the snow covered the tops of trees and a good deal of ground. The weather was cold and uninviting for a first impression, but Arya didn't say a thing. They took a car and headed toward a prime area of the city, where Jon had an apartment.

Jon was not adept of a very fussy lifestyle, so for someone who owned one of the largest fortunes in the country, the place was quite modest. Large, comfortable, functional and decorated in a too austere and classic style for someone who hadn't even reached the age of thirty. A maid took care of the cleaning and Jon rarely took his meals at home, which meant that a cook only appeared there in special occasions.

He saw to it that she had a room prepared to receive her, with a private bathroom and a lovely view of Hyde Park. The decor was a bit impersonal and severe as the rest of the house. Arya sat on the bed and took a deep breath, becoming aware that this was her new home and that Jon was an unexpected benefactor.

That apartment smelled of loneliness and isolation. It was cold by the lack of warmth and just made her remember more of her old house and the emptiness she felt at the thought of her parents. Jon lived busy with work and there was no room in his life even for a girlfriend, or a pet, she couldn't have high hopes that there was room for an orphan cousin who came with a big "problem" warning stamped on her forehead.

He stared her anxiously almost all the time, as if expecting a word of appreciation, or a request. It had been so long since their last conversation, or even the last time they saw each other. It was still difficult to think of him as that boy of fourteen for whom she had a platonic crush during childhood.

He was still handsome. More handsome now that his features matured. His eyes were gray, but depending on the light, she could have sworn they were violet. Curly hair was longer than what was expected of a successful businessman, but she liked how the curls fall over his eyes. The jaw line was strong, his face was long and very similar to her father's face.

Only one thing hadn't changed. That tender way Jon stared at her hadn't changed. He always had a place for her in his bedroom when they were children and Arya had nightmares at night, or when some boy bothered her at school. She never understood exactly why he left so soon, or why her mother never spoke about him, but the truth is that Arya longed for her best friend all these years.

Later that day, when she had already unpacked most of her bagged, Jon received a call that left him somewhat anxious. He went to her room and asked Arya to get dressed for dinner. They would have company that night, but she was not in the mood to play the host.

When the doorbell rang she had finished getting dressed up in a way that Sansa would find appropriate. The clothing was dark, since she was still in mourning for her parents, but at least it was pants that made her look more like a girl than a sloppy boy. She wore a gray linen sweater and even bothered to apply a little makeup to cover the dark circles.

Jon opened the door personally giving way to a man so old that Arya got to wonder if it was possible for someone to live many years without breaking at the breath of a breeze. He rode in a wheelchair and behind came a plump man, his cheeks flushed from the cold.

"Allow me to introduce Sam Tarly, one of my lawyers and personal friend." Jon said pointing to the fat man who hastened to greet Arya. "And this is Aemon Targaryen, my mentor and also my granduncle on my father's side of the family."

The man approached her and stared in an evaluative way. Arya suspected that he could not see very well, but said nothing.

"You are extremely familiar, young lady." The man said. His voice weak. "Much like your aunt Lyanna. It's almost like seeing her again."

"I'll take that as a compliment. Everyone says that she was very beautiful, but I've never met her." Arya said. "Please to meet you. I am Arya Stark."

"Nice to meet you, young lady. I'm so sorry for your loss. Your father was always a good man and your mother was a kind woman, if I remember correctly." Aemon said.

"Despite the circumstances, welcome to London, Miss Stark." Sam Tarly said extending his hand to her. "Jon talks a lot about you."

"Does he?" She seemed surprised. "I had no idea that my cousin remembered my existence. We hardly talked in the past eight years."

"Not for lack of trying on my part." Jon hastened to say. "Things got very busy in my life, but I have never forgotten you."

"That's good to know." She replied apathetic.

The four sat in the room and Jon ordered dinner. To her surprise, that frail old man claiming to be someone so important, looked extremely comfortable in the presence of people much younger than him and who provided an hast and unceremoniously dinner.

Aemon was kind of interesting person to talk with many stories and the air of wisdom conferred by his respectable ninety-five years. He had lived during the World Wars, fought in the Second and helped build one of the largest empires in the world of telecommunication.

He seemed to like her, which Arya was supposed to be something good. On the other hand, Sam Tarly was an unintentionally fun kind and if he was able to do a half Stark laugh, so she had to give some credit to him.

This was a survey and both were fully aware of this. Aemon took care of Jon as his grandson and all that concerned the life of the young entrepreneur was of interest to the old man. Arya Stark fit the definition, even if Jon insisted on saying that it was only a debt of honor he was settling and would not affect anything in his professional life.

For some reason the evaluative look of the old man brought Jon a sense of shame that he could not explain, as if Aemon saw and heard things that the boy had not even noticed. Maybe it was just his conscience to reacquaint his cousin after eight years and noted that the scene played out before he leave the home of Ned Stark was still very clear in his memory, which caused a feeling of disgust and shame.

When Aemon said he was tired, Sam hastened to call the driver to take him home. The young lawyer accompanied the old boss and Jon felt relieved to have the house all to them again. He cast a glance at Arya, who was huddled in a corner of the sofa.

He was not used to sharing space with someone else and have to get used to her presence. It hurt to see how much she looked fragile, even if the effort to keep her composure was admirable. He could hardly believe she was only seventeen. Grief made her appeared to have at least five more years. Her eyes were melancholy and serious, her face had lost the traces of childhood and Arya looked more like a familiar stranger than with the girl he left behind in tears when he moved to London.

She had come back into his life without warning and without invitation. She was sitting in the center of his world, alone, desolated and lost. When they were kids, he used to be her hero, he thinks he could still play the role, Arya is at least allowed.

She was murmuring sleep after a 'good night' squalid. Jon knew she took a long time to sleep that night. He heard her crying as he passed through the bedroom door, he heard a faint voice calling her father and mother and reciting vows of revenge. He knew that the murder of Mr. and Mrs. Stark had been premeditated and suspected that it was a political crime was very strong. Arya was not stupid to the point of ignoring the evidence and Jon knew she had suspects in mind.

**And I've been a fool and I've been blind**

**I can never leave the past behind**

**I can see no way, I can see no way**

**I'm always dragging que horse around**

When he threw himself on the bed his memory wandered directly to the day they were hiding inside the room he occupied at the Stark's house.

The birthday gift was wrapped and stored in his pocket. Arya stared at him with her large gray eyes, waiting to see what her cousin wanted to give her so secretly.

The Swiss Army Knife was the first and only gift he gave her, knowing that Arya would love it. She never liked dolls, dresses, or pretty little things, but his eyes sparkled when she saw the collection of camp trinkets he and Robb had. That was his favorite knife and Arya knew it, but her smile served to assure him that give the object would be worth it.

She hugged him so hard that day. Kissed his cheek as she thanked all without stopping. She was a girl of nine, he was a boy of fourteen. Until now he couldn't tell where his head was on that day. Arya said that she loved him and that he was the best cousin in the world and when he realized his lips were on hers, in immediate response to such devotion.

It was an innocent kiss. Something he felt like doing, not because she drew him or anything of the sort. He wanted to kiss her because it felt right, because she was his best friend, because he was happy, or just wanted to know how it felt to kiss the person he trusted the most in the world.

That memory haunted him, not by the act itself, but because Catelyn Stark had entered the room at that moment. A kiss that was just a brush of lips and the next week he was moving to London, away from Arya and his cousins. Taking the lady and the very Arya Stark, Aemon was the only one who knew what had happened, but never scolded him for that.

It was comforting to think about that day, even though Jon was once again under the same roof with her. His cousin and best friend barely spoke to him now. She cried hidden in the guest room over the death of her parents and the longing she felt for her siblings. Maybe she didn't even wanted his presence, the man that took her from home and dragged her to a strange city where she had no friends or other family members beyond him. He felt as a nasty villain of a chip novel thinking about all this and yet there was no less drastic way out.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Aemon could be almost blind, but he wasn't stupid. The boy seemed beyond reason since the death of Eddard Stark and his wife and it didn't take much effort to find out why.

Arya Stark was doing counseling to overcome the loss in the best possible way. She was enrolled in a good private school, where she would begin her studies after the holiday season. Eventually she went to the office to handle any urgent matter to Jon, being it the need of a signature on a document, or some money.

She was a good girl. Melancholic due to loss, but still an educated and intelligent girl, with whom Aemon liked to talk when she deigned to pass by his office during her brief visits.

Something about her, however, reminded him of his long passed nephew and his second wife. Lyanna also had that same melancholic look and the particular traits of the Stark family. The same sharp mind and the same rebellious temper. She had turned Rhaegar's head when they met for the first time in a charity event. She was the daughter of a wealthy contractor, owner of a giant construction company in United States, and he was owner of a telecommunications empire, already married and with a young son.

Lyanna was the cause of the separation of Rhaegar and Elia. Was the cause of a crisis in the company. A hast wedding, away from the eyes of her family, and the guarantee of enmity of Stark because he had impregnated the girl, who at the time was almost as young as Arya. That was a withering passion that ended with her death from complications in childbirth and Rhaegar suffering a car accident shortly after.

Left only Jon and his half-brother Aegon, who insisted on staying away from the family business and eventually sold most of his shares to his brother when they reached the required age. Aegon lived in India and helped his aunt, Daenerys, with market expansion in Asia.

Aemon see much of Lyanna in Arya and much of Rhaegar in Jon. Couldn't avoid the sorrow he felt in his chest every time he watched how they interacted, or how she avoided being caught in the middle of a stealth look at him, or as Jon seemed determined to give a warm smile every time his cousin spoke him a few words.

They were still those two children that exchanged secret gifts, love vows, and brushed their lips in an awkward kiss, or those children had died and what was left was a vague hope that there was a way and a place for them? Aemon was not sure. He didn't even know if what he was seeing was a good sign.

Maybe he should ignore and rely on Jon's common sense, or perhaps he should pray that at least the story would have a happier ending than that of his nephew.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

**And our love's pastured such a mournful sound**

**Tonight I'm gonna bury que horse in the ground**

**So I like to keep my issues strong**

**But it's always darkest before the dawn**

Winter days became more solitary and melancholic to her. Jon knew that. It was the way she watched the snow fall during the night from the windows of the apartment and how she sat on the couch, all curled like a young abandoned kitten. Arya was unhappy and with Christmas's proximity only worsened the feeling of loneliness.

His apartment hadn't many elements that could transform the luxurious atmosphere into something more like a home. There was not fireplace, but there was a good heating system. There was no frame, but there were works of art valued at staggering amounts. There was nothing to denounce that this was someone's home, it was something else that could be admired in any décor catalog.

He used to spend Christmas Eve alone, but he knew that her Christmases were always noisy, full of laughter and homemade food, with a roaring fireplace and tree decorating the room. That was her new home and he felt guilty for not doing anything to make the place more welcoming.

Jon sat beside her after taking a shower and change clothes. The day had been exhausting and he liked to return to the quiet of his house. Even with Arya around, he could not say that this was a busy place. Neither of them was given to aimless conversations and sometimes he felt that all Arya wanted was to pretend he wasn't there.

He let his hand rest on hers. That was the first time they actually touched each other after the funeral, and Arya gave a start, taken by surprise. She stared at him with her expressive eyes and gray like a frozen lake. He wondered when she had become such a beautiful girl.

"I was thinking ..." He broke the silence, aware that he had her full attention. "It is the first Christmas we spent together. I know it will not be easy, but I think we should celebrate somehow."

"I'm not exactly in a festive mood." She said, lowering her head slightly. "As if there is anything to celebrate."

"But there is." He said knowing how much it would be painful for her but Arya needed a boost. She needed to remember that there was still life in her. "It has long been just me and Aemon on the table during Christmas Eve's Night. You are part of this little family now and I feel that I have done little to make this apartment a home for you.

"You have done too much." She said, staring at him again. "It's not your fault, Jon. Nothing that is happening to me is your fault."

"So let me try to help you." He asked. "Arya, you're so quiet and so distant. This is not healthy, it can't be. I know that void, I know the feeling of loneliness much better than you can imagine. And Eddard Stark was a father to me as well."

"I'm not good with parties." She said shrugging and trying to convince him that this was a bad idea. "Sansa is the family's host."

"We can make the worst Christmas dinner together." He said with a smile. "It will be just us two and Aemon and he never stay long after midnight."

"Christmas tree, roast turkey, potato salad, sauce ..." She began to make a short list aloud and his smile widened.

"And pudding." He added. "It's not Christmas if there is no pudding." He noticed the small smile forming at the corners of her lips and that gave him hope that maybe that was not a lost battle.

"I'd better start thinking about your gift then." She said. "If you do not mind, I would like some suggestions of what to give to someone who has everything."

"Surprise me." He said whispering beside her ear. She felt her cheeks get stained with the proximity. For a moment he wondered if Arya remembered that day too. If she had thought about that day during those eight years.

"I'm terrible with surprises." She replied awkwardly. "I was never very creative."

"So smile." He said at last. "It's been eight years since I've seen you smiling. I miss it."

"You miss what?" She asked, staring at him. That was a delicate question. He missed the smile or whatever they had as children? The troublesome girl who preferred to play the boy, or that they had wonderful complicity?

"I miss us." He answered, fully aware of how inadequate it sounded. She was seventeen years old orphan and also his protégée. He should worry about her well-being and not be remembering a kiss, which could hardly be classified as such, that happened at a time when neither of them had much idea of what they were doing. "I miss how we used to be friends." It was a weak attempt to correct the error, but an attempt anyway.

Between words unspoken, sorrows and mourning, she was something that Jon could not classify. That feeling was disconcerting every time he looked at her. A diffuse sense of protectiveness toward her and a tenderness that he could swore he had forgotten. Arya sometimes cried alone at night in the room and he fought the urge to go to her, hug her and make promises he knew he could not fulfill, because nobody was able to erase the pain.

What if that what he felt for her as a child was not just a curiosity associated with the friendship they had? And what if that feeling was something else, seasoned with a dash of hope? And what if that feeling hadn't died, just been stored inside him waiting for the moment that it would rise again, stronger and equally inappropriate.

Platonic love ... He was already too old to feel this kind of thing and she was too young for the possibility of any feeling, beside respect and affection, to arise between them.

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**Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaah**

**Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaaah**

**And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back**

**So shake him off, oh woah**

On Christmas Eve there was a small decorated tree in the living room and the table was set, decorated with arrangements of red and gold. The smell of roast was in every room of the apartment.

He was surprised to see her lighting candles on the table and using a dark gray dress, makeup and hair rougher than ever. He was accustomed to see her wearing jeans, sneakers, shirts and slacks, in a way that made her look like a boy sometimes, but in all those years he only remembered seeing her in a dress on special occasions or when Cat Stark made her.

She did not seem upset or uncomfortable about using the clothes, but Jon was definitely surprised at the sight. She had become a pretty girl, unlike all the nasty comments that Sansa and her friends used to say about Arya when she was a kid. In a few years she would be a beautiful woman.

Aemon arrived shortly after. Jon served them a moderate dose of whiskey and they drank and talked for a few hours. Arya was still far from being a gracious hostess, or show great enthusiasm for this little celebration, but Jon saw her laugh a few times during the conversation.

She liked Aemon and the stories he told. He liked the shrewd mind of the old man and also the way he addressed her, always with respect for her opinions. Even being so old, Aemon had a great respect for youth and if not for the incentives of his granduncle, Jon would never have had the courage to take the business and make decisions that many considered arbitrary, or more daring.

They dined together and Jon eventually allowed Arya to have a couple glasses of wine after Aemon reinforce the idea that a few months before the majority wouldn't make any difference in the effect of alcohol and the girl deserved some fun too.

She became more relaxed and a bit more talkative too. Jon watched from the corner of his eyes with a bit of satisfaction and a little disgusted by the way he found it impossible to look away from her, while Arya licked whit the tip of her tongue the pudding dessert spoon. It was something quite voyeuristic and disturbing, like watching through the keyhole someone undress, like remembering a kiss exchanged between two children fumbling a moment of inconsequent happiness.

After dessert, Aemon gave Arya a gold necklace with a pendant drop shaped, made of diamond. She thanked him and put the necklace right away to please the old man and Jon wondered how the stone gleamed, while resting just below her collarbone. To Jon he gave a whiskey bottle made of silver.

Jon gave the old Aemon a particularly rare book. It was no secret that his great uncle was an avid collector of works of art and Jon couldn't resist when he found a Koran with many well-made and stylish pictures. The old man seemed satisfied with it, but to get a magnifying glass with a handled made of mother-of-pearl his face got radiant with happiness.

Aemon smiled and thanked her countless times. He seemed genuinely happy for her having taken the time to think of such a beautiful present for him. Sometimes Jon wondered which of the two Targaryens was more lonely and definitely Aemon had lived a longer time without knowing what it was to have a family to keep him company on Christmas Eve.

He said goodbye to Arya while Jon insisted on accompany him to the car waiting to take him home. Aemon stared at his nephew for long seconds without saying anything. Then he embraced him as he would have probably embraced a son if he had any.

"You remind me so much your father." He said in a wistful tone. "I'd like Rhaegar had lived long enough to see you today. I loved him, you know? He was a bright young man. We shared a taste for art and this Koran ... It looks like something he would have choose for me."

"I'm glad you liked it, uncle." Jon said friendly. "I am also happy to keep you company on a night like that. It is not easy to go through by Christmas Eve alone."

"And there is a girl upstairs who surely need every company she can find tonight." Aemon said seeming to know a secret that nobody else knew. "She's a lovely girl, despite her wild way."

"I should have known her when she was younger." Jon commented. "She would have taken a good laugh from you. She was always smart and entertaining."

"Even after the loss, I think she still looks like a certain girl of nine or ten of whom you stole a kiss." Aemon said as if it was nothing more. "She is still too young, Jon."

"I know." He felt his stomach twist in an unpleasant feeling of shame and disgust.

"In a few years, it may be that this is not a bad idea." Aemon added. "Have a good night and merry Christmas."

The old man got into the car and left Jon alone outside, while the gentle snow began to fall, covering the sidewalk and the top of the trees next to Hyde Park. The snow always brought good memories of childhood, when he and Arya were lying on the ground to make snow angels together.

He returned to the apartment and she had removed the dishes and brought the leftovers to the kitchen. The place was silent once more. Candles burned while most of the lights were turned off. The lighted tree in the corner of the room seemed lonely in it festive meaning while he couldn't find a single sign of Arya around.

**I am done with my graceless heart**

**So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart**

**Cause I like to keep my issues strong**

**It's always darkest before the dawn**

He walked down the hallway leading to the rooms. The door ajar allowed him to see her silhouette in half-light. Jon paused for a minute. His mouth dried and pulse fastened while the smooth contours and her creamy skin partially uncovered was revealed as she laid aside the dark gray dress to replace it with something more comfortable to sleep. Small breasts, nipples hardened thanks to cold, delicate curves of a young body. She was no longer a child.

He averted his eyes and turned away from the door as quickly as possible, hiding inside the room while he felt the dirty sensation grow within himself. What was he doing? What was he thinking?

Jon took a deep breath. He went to the bathroom and washed his face with cold water. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, trying to find an explanation for that behavior. In a few years ... Aemon said, but that didn't make sense. That couldn't make sense.

He left the bathroom and when he returned to the room, Arya was sitting on his bed, in the dark, like a ghost or as a perverted and immoral thought. She wore sweater, her shoulders were slumped, her hair messy and there was no longer any sign of makeup on her face. She had something in her hands.

"I thought you had already gone to sleep." He broke his silence and walked to where she was sit. Arya looked up and looked at him. There was nothing particular in her look that denounced that she had seen him spying, anyway, despite the cold it was that night, Jon felt his blood warm.

"I wanted to give you this before." She said in a low tone and somewhat melancholic. She handed a small box to him. Jon took the package and opened it quickly finding inside a Swiss Army knife much like the one he had given her eight years ago.

"You didn't have to." He said, feeling the breath drain from her lungs as he felt cold and smooth texture of the metal against his fingers.

"You gave me your favorite one." She said. "I just wanted to replace it." Her shoulders shrank again. "Merry Christmas, Jon. I think I'll sleep now."

She started to get up and leave the room, but before he could take a step, he put his hand on her wrist, stopping her where she was. He felt the quickening pulse against his fingers and her skin tingle to the touch.

"Do you remember?"nHis voice was husky and serious, as if he had spent years without using it. His heart was racing, his vision blurred.

"Of course I do." She said. "Next week you're gone. That was your farewell gift."

"I wouldn't have gone." Jon confessed. "Catelyn ... She didn't want me around."

"It makes no difference now." Arya said. "Those were good times. They will not come back. Neither my parents nor my brothers ...It's over, isn't it? Nothing remained from that era."

"We remain, Arya." He said approaching her. "I'm still here."

"We are not those kids, Jon." She said. "You don't know me and you are almost a stranger to me, as well."

"So let me acquaint with you again." Arya seemed to relax a little and Jon wrapped his arms around her, hugging her from behind. She laid her head against his shoulder and took a deep breath.

"I missed you so much." She said with a rueful tone. "They never told me why you went away. The only excuse was that you needed to prepare yourself for the future."

"You never suspected the reason?" He asked kissing her cheek and feeling the salty taste on his tongue.

"I figured things out after a while." She whispered. "It was because of me, wasn't it?"

"No. It was because of me." He said. He could smell her perfume. "It was a stupid thing to do."

"Do you regret it?" Her voice faltered.

"No." It was the only answer he could think of. "Why you never tried to talk to me then?"

"I don't know." She replied. "I was afraid to try and find that there was no room for me in your new life. Looking back now, it seems like a bad taste joke."

"We were two kids and I was falling for you." He said hugging her a little stronger.

- We were kids, but what are we now?" She asked.

"We grew up. I am an adult full of responsibilities now; you will soon be one too." He said with difficulty. "And I'm falling in love again. I wonder how you do this to me."

"They say that love between cousins never ends." She said turning to face him directly in the eyes. "This time there's no one in the house to discover us."

**Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaah**

**Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaah**

**And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back**

**So shake him off, oh woah**

**And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back (Shake it off)**

**And Given half the chance would I take any of it back (Shake it off)**

**It's a fine romance but it's left me so undone (Shake it off)**

**It's always darkest before the dawn**

She touched his face and Jon felt his body shudder in response to the touch. He kissed the her palm and the tips of each finger. He stared into the gray eyes. They were so much alike that anyone could think they were siblings and he was happy to think that they were not.

It was her mouth that took the initiative. A brush of lips much like the one that haunted his memory for so many years. There was nobody in the house. One to separate them or say that was wrong beside they own tormented consciences. Jon put his arm around her waist and devoured Arya's mouth as if he had spent eight years waiting for this moment.

It was sick. It was disturbing to see that she affected him so much. Arya corresponded to the kiss with equal enthusiasm and repeatedly Jon had to keep in mind that she was only seventeen. She was still a girl, even though he could feel the curves of her body pressed against his.

For a split second he wondered what would have happened if he had lived for a few more years in his uncle's house. Would just fell hopelessly in love with her as he was now? He would have gained some sense and resigned to the fact that it was only a childish curiosity, mixed with caring? He would have taken her to bed as she was doing now?

He could not say when it happened. Arya knew she was beneath him, kissing him as if she depended on the air coming out of his lungs to survive. The slender body pressed against his. Small hands that explored his contours and sought loopholes in the clothes he wore, seeking to touch skin with skin.

Her legs were apart invitingly. His own hands seemed to ignore common sense as they wandered Arya's partially covered thighs. She had torn his shirt and touched his nipples with her fingertips, pinching and teasing like she wasn't aware of the danger.

She kissed his neck, playing with his earlobe and teased him with unbelievable security in every movement. Arya knew what she was doing and made that clear. Jon, on the other hand, still bore the image of a girl of nine years old, totally innocent. He really didn't know her any more, yet she was still his Arya.

She grabbed his wrist leading Jon's hand until it covered her breast. He was startled by the boldness, pondered whether or not to continue with that, but Arya was unbuttoning his pants and sliding her hand inside, to touch him. He closed his eyes immediately as he felt her hand pressing him, massaging him skillfully until the air escaped from his lungs.

Jon lost track of good sense and modesty in seconds that followed. He pushed her hand and pulled the sweater she wore. His hands gripped with ease, leaving reddish marks on the skin and closely followed by his eager mouth. She clawed his back while Jon kissed her neck, her small breasts and sucked her hard nipples. Arya moaned low in approval, required attention throughout her body as Jon slid his pants away, with the help of her legs.

He realized that they were completely naked in each other's presence. It was a powerful feeling to demystify the whole holiness and make room for a new kind of worship. Her heart pounded against his, his pulse was strong, his skin hot, his kisses intense. He stared at her for a moment.

**And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I do not**

**So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road**

**And I'm ready to Suffer and I'm ready to hope**

**It's a shot in the dark and right at my throat**

**Cause looking for heaven, found the devil in me**

**Looking for heaven, found the devil in me**

**Well what the hell I'm gonna let it happen to me**

Arya stared bewildered, her face flushed. Could see a flicker of fear and need in her gray eyes. Jon touched her face gently. Felt the urge bubbling in his blood, felt the same need she felt, but he couldn't leave behind the weight of his conscience and the fear that everything was nothing more than a way to kill it a bit desperate sorrow for the loss of her old life by picking the only precious element of her past to bury within herself, like an anchor.

He couldn't do that to her. Could not give in and hurt her even more when that excitement has passed and they faced reality. Cat and Ned would remain dead. Robb, Sansa, Bran and Rickon would continue across the ocean, while she was bound to him in that cold apartment. A life she didn't and had no interest for.

What would they be when it happened? He could forget that night in the coming weeks, the coming months, in the coming years? He wasn't able to forget a brush of lips and doubted that he could overcome that night. When she got home after school, accompanied by another young man, someone her age, what would he do? Could he pretend that he was just her cousin, or he would stuck in a bad romance in which he played the cuckolded husband?

He started to pull away from her and Arya stopped him by touching hid neck and seeking his mouth in a silent form of argument. There was a hint of desperation in that kiss, the way she tried to arouse reactions even more compelling in his body. She held him again, positioning it against the hot and humid entrance. Jon felt the air scape from his lungs and moaned as he felt her receiving him slowly inside her.

"They will not come back, Arya." He said hoarsely against her ear. "And I will not leave you after this." That was a contract with the devil and she signed the moment Jon buried himself inside her. It was just for her to know the terms and consequences.

She closed her legs around his waist, a tacit acceptance of the terms of it. Jon kissed her again, as he felt Arya around him. It was like finding a meaning to his empty life, like sharing a secret and finds his way home. She hugged him hard as she felt that he was entirely within her and Jon once again felt the taste of salt on the tip of his tongue.

A tear had drained out of the corner of her eyes. Wondered if this was a sign that he had hurt her, or just another of the endless sorrows that she could no longer contain. Jon dried her face and began to move carefully. Arya never get away from him longer than necessary, so that his movements were short and languid. It was not sex, it was torture. It was desire, love and sadness diluted in eight years of memories not forgotten, loneliness and longing.

Jon touched her between her legs, just above where they were connected. The little spot lost among the black threads that covered her sex. Arya closed her eyes tightly, bit her lip trying to contain the loud moan formed in her throat as Jon kissed her neck.

The movements were deeper as she allowed him to have a little more freedom to move. The pleasure was plastered on her face, as much as that hints of sadness. Pain and tenderness mingled in what they felt for each other. The need and desire were so powerful as doubt and remorse. Jon swept those thoughts away, as he pulled her by the waist to their hips clashed against each other and sank his face in the back of her neck.

He felt the spasms of her body and the way Arya contracted around him, while Jon resisted and kept moving inside her, seeking his own release. He closed his eyes, feeling his mind disconnect from the body as the pleasure washed over his senses. He poured into her, feeling the viscous liquid between her legs.

She rolled to her side in bed. He kissed her mouth, hugged her tightly as if afraid that Arya would run away the next minute. She laid her head on his chest, nuzzling against his exposed chest and smelling his essence mixed with hers.

"Merry Christmas, Arya." He whispered next to her ear and kissed her forehead then.

"Merry Christmas, Jon." She said in a frail voice, just before falling asleep.

**Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaah**

**Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaah**

**And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back**

**So shake him off, oh woah**

**Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaah**

**Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh woaaah**

**And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back**

**So shake him off, oh woah**

Author's Note: I'm very fond of this fic and always wanted to translate it for two reasons. First: it had a very positive reception in my own country not in quantity but in quality. Second: I wanted to evaluate the reactions from English Native Speakers to it. I feel that Americans tend to be much more sensible to the topic of relationship between cousins than British people. I don't know if it's true or if it's just an impression. Please let me know. I'll also explain that I'm not American or British. I'm Brazilian. In my country our reaction about cousin's love is kind of ambiguous. We know it's not a good thing from the genetic perspective, but we don't see it as the end of the world if it happens. We even have a popular say about it. "Cousins' love last forever". We don't even consider it incest for legal matters, so cousins can get married here. When I published it many readers shared with me their own experiences with cousins and I was intrigued about what would be the reaction to the fic if I have it translated.

Again. English is not my native language and I don't have a Beta, so take it easy on me.

Music: Shake it out of Florence and The Machines.

I hope you enjoy and leave some reviews.

Bee


	2. Chapter 2

**On the corner of main street**

**Just tryin 'to keep it in line**

**You say you wanna move on and**

**You say I'm falling behind**

**Can you read my mind?**

**Can you read my mind?**

Christmas morning was white and strangely silent. Jon stared at the snow falling outside, like ballerinas dancing in the air. The treetops of Hyde Park had icicles that looked like diamonds against the light. It was cold outside.

He could barely breathe. He was afraid to wake her, or break that fine balance. He corrected himself mentally. There was no balance. It was chaos, pure, simple and perfect, which has dragged him into a dizzying spiral in the middle of a cold night when both were feeling unhappy.

Arya slept on his chest and that was a scene almost as nostalgic as the snow falling outside. In the past she ran to his bed every time she had a nightmare and couldn't sleep for some reason. He wonders in which of the two alternatives the case fitted. She breathed slowly, still fast asleep, with her leg propped up against him, her body naked and hot, her hair falling over her closed eyes.

He wanted to freeze the moment. He should definitely take a picture of that scene and keep it in a safe so he could admire her when everything turned to ashes. How easy it was to give up the fight. Just get carried away by the tide while water invaded his lungs taking the place of air. Arya was the ocean and Jon was tired of swimming in the opposite direction.

He allowed himself to hope, though. Perhaps she opened her eyes and smiled at him as the little girl he left behind. No, it was not possible. She was far from being a little girl. Maybe she would smile at him a satisfied smile, slightly mischievous, the smile of a woman, and he would believe that everything would work out.

Was he prepared to deal with an adult Arya? One who knew how to guide desires and passions much better than him? She scared him last night with all her certainty and urgency. She demanded passion and intensity at every touch and every kiss as if she has danced that dance countless times. He couldn't contain the irritation when he thinks of it. He wondered who the first was. How she had learned to seduce and be seduced.

It was such a retrograde thought, not to mention unfair. Even he had other girls, the first shortly after arriving in London. A little wild redhead named Ygritte. She had a slender body and was temperamental, but taught him a thing or two about how to treat a woman in bed. He remembered that once, when he caressed her face on a hot summer afternoon, he said she remembered him someone.

Ygritte who this someone was and Jon needed a few seconds to compose himself from the emptiness he felt thinking about it. He said she remembered Arya. Her rebellious way, her slender body, the mischievous way she acted toward him. And she really remembered him of it all and that kept him controlled for some time, when the longing was hard to bare and days passed without news from his cousin.

If Ygritte knew then what that comment meant. If she could see him now, naked, exhausted and satisfied after hours of love consumed between the sheets with his cousin in his arms ... He himself felt nauseated with the consequences of it all. He didn't know what to do with himself or whit her. He didn't know what to think or expect. Maybe that was the end of it, but something inside him insisted to say that it was only the beginning.

He fell asleep again and woke up when he noticed that Arya wasn't in the room. If he wasn't naked and the sheets didn't demonstrate clear signs of use, he would even doubt that the previous night had happened. The Swiss Army knife was on the nightstand, her scent was ingrained in every inch of the room.

He stood up and took a shower while wondering where she had gone. Put warm clothes and left the room. The apartment was quiet and he found Arya in the kitchen drinking a glass of water. The smell of scrambled eggs and bacon was everywhere. There was also tea and hot coffee.

How long had he not wake up in the morning and was confronted with the sight of a woman with whom he had laid making breakfast for them? Again he corrected himself mentally. She was not a woman, she was Arya. And they hadn't had sex, at least not on his part. They had made love.

He approached her with careful steps. She didn't turn to face him and Jon was able to approach her with the lightness of a feline. Arya grabbed a plate and served it with bacon and eggs. He could not tell whether the choice of the menu was random or if his cousin remembered what he liked to eat in the morning.

"There's coffee and tea. What do you prefer?" She asked impersonally.

"Coffee." He said while receiving the dish from her. Arya grabbed a mug and served quickly. In the meantime he glanced at the kitchen counter and found a pack of suspicious pills.

"What is it?" He asked, taking the pills from the counter. Arya looked at him from the corner of the eyes.

"Precaution." She replied in a practical ton. "I don't want to end up pregnant at seventeen. I'm smarter than that."

He said no more. He sat down at the table and waited until she did the same. Didn't know what to say or how to act around her after last night. Arya was being practical and more careful than he. He should have thought about prevention, but he wasn't thinking very well last night. She was still his underage cousin for whom he was legally responsible. She was still so young and had so many problems to deal with now that she had lost her parents.

Jon ate a mouthful. The atmosphere inside the kitchen was heavy and dense. Arya was barely breathing near him, content to eat in silence.

"So?" She asked, breaking the silence.

"This is delicious." He said with his mouth full. Silence once more.

"I was referring to how long it will take for you to say it was a mistake." She said indifferently. Jon left the fork down and pondered for a split second what to say.

"Is that what you think? That it was a mistake?" He tested the ground which he would walk by.

"I think that's what you think." She replied. "We both know that my father raised you to be a responsible man driven by duty. I bet that take me to bed was not included in the lessons." She replied naughty. "Your reluctance made that clear."

He left the plate aside, but didn't dare to approach her. If only she could understand how much it was hard for him. Admit that he wanted her even when the memory of her child's face was still so vivid in his mind. That feeling was so repulsive and so perfect.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to reconcile the image I had of you with the one I have now?" He asked, staring at her finally. "I know you feel alone and confused with all the changes. I know I'm not in position to make demands to you, to charge it in any sense, but I do not want to be used as an escape valve."

"You think I'm using you?" She asked indignantly.

"Maybe not consciously." He said lowering his head. "I tried to control myself so we could think about it clearly, but I can't. No way! It is stronger than me. The only thing I don't want is to be a convenient substitute for the family that you lost. Robb, Sansa, Bran and Rickon aren't. Your parents are dead and will not come back, but I'm flesh and bone. And can be sure that I'm alive and well."

"You're being ridiculous if you think that's what's happening." She muttered.

"Ridiculous?" He approached her. "You said that we become strangers to one another. Still, I can't help think about of you. I left behind a girl of nine years old and now I run into a woman. I am not able to predict what you expect of me, or what you wanted when you showed yourself so willing last night. Comfort? Stability? Security? I can give it all if it what you want, but that's not what I want from you."

"So what the hell do you want from me, Jon?" She cried at last. Jon walked up to her with firm steps and grabbed her arms.

"I haven't been able to forget a kiss." He said right next to her face. "I wanted to be your hero back then. Your prince charming on a white horse, but you never needed me to rescue you so far. Do you really think I'll get to forget what happened yesterday? You opened my eyes to the fact that the girl is gone, she grew up and the reactions she awakens in me now are much more intense." He leaned forward slightly, making his lips brush against hers. "I want you. This is the covenant that we seal the bed. I'm not leaving again, nor will I let you go. I want what was stolen from us eight years ago."

"We were children. What can be robbed of two children?" She whispered very close to his lips.

"A future." He said flatly, while entwined his arms around her waist and pressed her against the kitchen counter. "We are no longer children."

She touched his face with both hands as if trying to map his face with her fingertips. He closed his eyes.

"What happened between us then? How it all began, Jon?" She asked weakly. Those were questions that he made to himself sometimes.

"You were my best friend." He said, kissing her face. "You were the best part of my day. You said you loved me that day, said I was the best cousin in the world. I never felt so important to someone before. It seemed so right at the time, and you didn't even try to get away ... Why?"

"You were my hero." She confessed. "My first and love. I thought you were so handsome."

"What did you feel when I kissed you?" He kissed her face again. Arya closed her eyes in response and he felt her heart beating next to his.

"I thought about all fairy tales that Sansa liked to tell me could become true." Arya said looking extremely vulnerable. "I believed in Prince Charming and happily ever after."

Jon wrapped his arms around her and Arya laid her head against his chest, closing her eyes. He wanted to understand where so much fear and so much need came from. Wanted to know to explain how that feeling had been born, but he couldn't.

Neither of them woke up one morning and decided to be in love. It was not a privilege of Cat Stark to find that there was something wrong between them, or that Jon could be developing some kind of debased by Arya at that time. He had thought this way, had repeated to himself numerous times that she was just a child. Tried to remember if he had ever thought of it improperly, with desire and lust, but nothing came to mind before last night.

He didn't want her that way when she was nine. It was like she did not have sex, like an angel to whom he dedicated his devotion. She was perfect and pure, it was a piece of heaven that he tended with care.

He blamed himself for everything. He felt ashamed and mentally scolded. Still uncomfortable in the presence of Aemon every time Arya was also in the room. Jon hadn't chosen feel that way about his cousin, it just happened without him realizing it and now he came to think that Arya felt the same.

"How was it?" He asked as he traced invisible drawings on her back.

"How was that what?" She questioned back.

"The happy ending you came to believe." He said and felt her stiffen in his arms.

"It was silly." She said. A child's fantasy."

"Tell me." He asked.

"There was snow." She said embarrassed. "A house with French windows and two dogs. We were both on the couch near the fireplace, embraced. In the summer we camped in beautiful places and we laughed at everything."

"There was no room for Robb, Rickon, Bran and Sansa?" He asked Arya and she shook her head.

"It was just the two of us and the snow." She replied. "I thought ... I thought I did not need anything else to live."

The maturity reached out abruptly and painfully. She understood now that even if that end came true, would always be with incomplete happiness. Ned Stark and his wife would not see that scene, maybe her siblings would, but Jon doubted that he would have the approval of any of them.

He kissed her mouth with affection, as if asking permission to be a little more intimate. Arya closed her eyes and responded. One day maybe he would summon the courage to offer her that future and she might even agree.

It was too early to think of such large steps. To think about future and happy endings. Yet he allowed himself to dream about the possibility of marrying her one day. In England marriage between cousins was not a problem. Maybe Robb and others ended up agreeing, but for now he is content to hug her.

**I never really gave up on**

**Breakin 'out of this two-star town**

**I got the green light**

**I got a little fight**

**I'm gonna turn this thing around**

**Can you read my mind?**

**Can you read my mind?**

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Classes began and a new routine was established inside the apartment. Life was regular and stable like the pendulum of a clock, they couldn't complain. Having a daily activity gave Arya a chance to divert attention from the loss to her new obligations.

When he came home, since the end of the day, he found her sitting, studying and doing her duties. That vision served to remind him that although they have a complex relationship, Arya wasn't ready for an adult life. She had the right to live a few more years and enjoy her share of immaturity.

The school uniform bothered her deeply and she had made that clear. Jon had to admit that the clothes didn't fit her style, but the vision wasn't bad at all. Plaid skirt, the long socks, flat shoes, white shirt and jacket. The default austere dress code adopted by private schools in England wasn't made to make girls look attractive, but he was beginning to question that.

It was a collection of all cliché fetishes that one could imagine. The cousin, the childhood friend, the younger girl, a high school student and the nymphet. Jon looked at Arya wearing that uniform and thought of Lolita. He felt like an old perverse bastard sometimes, but insisted on remember that the age difference between them wasn't that big and soon she would be of age, which made the relationship between them legally acceptable.

Perhaps it was these little reminders that made him avoid most heated caresses. After Christmas night, Jon didn't get to take her to bed again, and for the sake of his sanity, Arya was still sleeping in her own room. Not that they hadn't exchanged kisses, hugs and cuddles, but he felt he needed a period of adjustment, even though sometimes it was almost unbearable to resist temptation.

More than once he was sure she was provoking him. She came out of the bathroom wrapped in a white towel, wet hair, ruddy face, and passed in front of him to look something up or for some small talk. Sometimes she just ignored all the rules of Cat Stark about how a girl should sit properly. Sometimes she just decided that her favorite foods, especially sweets, should be savored slowly, with all noise and the luscious finger licks she was entitled.

Arya was aware of how she messed with his self-control whenever she did that. It was her favorite new game to test Jon's limits, as if it took much to get excited. A word, a gesture, a brush of lips was enough to get his blood boiling. Still he tried to keep control and let things settle. Eventually, that plan failed and Jon just satisfied her desires and his own.

He still had to get used to Arya as woman. She was still a sacred figure in the center of all his worship, that angel he used to venerate as a teenager. That insinuating Arya, with no childish appetites still caused him a confused feeling of fascination, desire and anger. Jon wanted to die without knowing who was responsible for teaching her and if by any chance he got know the unfortunate man, consequences probably wouldn't be nice.

But it wasn't the coldly calculated provocations that plagued him most. It was her moments of vulnerability that led him to madness. Despite considerable improvement in her mood, sometimes he could still hear her crying alone at night. Sometimes he found her sitting by the window watching the scenery and in her gray eyes loomed a shadow of sadness that wouldn't let her.

Robb called once a week to talk to her. Bran and Arya exchanged emails and messages almost daily and whenever she could she talked with Rickon through webcam. Sansa sent news more rarely. These occasions were the times when Jon noticed that she missed of all of them and what he had to offer seemed so little in comparison to it.

It was a pretty empty life and Jon felt guilty for not been able to give her what Arya had lost in a few months. The silence of the house was disturbing, the emptiness was cold as the snow began to melt in Hyde Park. She kept her stable routine like a pendulum, and he watched her fight the sadness that was never far away.

She transitioned between the woman and the girl. Elements were mingled in such a way that more than once Jon was able to view the past and the future as she walked through the almost empty apartment. It was difficult to dose their passions and understand what really happened between them.

He liked when she lay in his lap and he played with his hair. He liked how she corresponded the kisses he stole, or every time he catch her with his hands to hold her, as if she could disappear at any time. Arya stared impatiently on these occasions, waiting for him to decide what direction they should take.

It was a chaotic dance in witch doubt, desire, need, trust and care had a place in the ballroom.

The good old days

The honest man

The restless heart

The promised land

A subtle kiss

That no one sees

A broken wrist

The big trapeize

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Aemon saw clearly that something was wrong with that scene. He noticed something that was not in place even in New Year's Eve.

The Stark girl was much more talkative than the last few times they'd met. There was even a touch of good humor in her voice, as if Arya had finally gotten used to the direction her life was taking. It was not difficult to understand what Jon saw in her fascinated him so much. Arya Stark really had a temper, but his wit and acid humor made her an attractive girl in a peculiar way. She didn't look like seventeen and Jon was absolutely aware of it.

It was worrying. As much as he shouldn't interfere in the lives of young people, Aemon cared about Jon and also about the girl. Arya had been through a lot, had suffered greatly in recent months and perhaps the presence of someone who in the past was so important to her could confuse her feelings. Jon was a refuge and a safe place, no doubt, but what she felt for him was that same love of the past matured over the years, or was it a way to overcome the loss of her family by calling the only person she had fond memories and still around?

Jon didn't deserve to be a substitute in her life, not when it was so obvious that childish feeling was becoming something much more serious for him. The boy had given up fighting against the power she had over him. There was urgency in the way he touched her, intimacy in the way he spoke next to her ear and how their bodies reacted to each other's presence. If they hadn't got laid soon they would and once again history would repeat itself.

Robb Stark would be better than Lyanna's brothers when Rhaegar assumed the paternity of her child? Jon would regret greatly losing the esteem and confidence of his cousin, if Stark discovered what was going on in the apartment near Hyde Park. He and Robb were best friends since childhood and keep the friendship as close as the distance between the United States and Britain allowed.

Maybe she should go back to her siblings. Maybe it was for the best that she was got interested in another guy and let Jon rid of that spell the Stark Girls seemed to have cast on Targaryen boys. Maybe it was better sent the girl to a boarding school to complete her studies and from there send straight to Oxford and let her back with a diploma and enough age to decide if that was a childhood crush or not something else.

She wore a dark blue dress on New Year's Eve. Walked up to him and smiled. Embraced him as a grandfather and wished him luck during the year was about to begin. Aemon offered her a glass of champagne and they watched people interacting around them. It was a small party, but it was the first time that investors and administrative members closer Jon had a chance to lay eyes on her.

"They are evaluating me, aren't they?" - Arya asked with a shrug.

"You're smart." Aemon said amused by the comment. "And you know why?"

"They think I'm my aunt." Arya said taking another sip of champagne. "And think Jon is just like his father. Even you think so."

"Lyanna was very young at the time, besides being the daughter of a rich and influential man in politics. If she were a model or any girl without good connections, nothing else would have happened. The press would sell a few tabloids and in a few months the scandal would be forgotten, but your grandfather saw to our company's investors to abandon us". - Aemon said seriously. "Many, who support us today, kicked off at our fall just before Jon was born. Each one of them has good reason to worry about the effect that your arrival may have in the company."

"And I'm still a Stark." She muttered.

"And your brother inherited the command of the company and influential friends in Congress." Aemon said. "Do you know we work in partnership with your government? We sell news, documentaries and so many other things."

"And what you think is that I can put an end to your empire?" Arya asked. "I do not have as much power as you think."

"It would be enough that your brother knew and didn't approve of the relationship." Aemon said. "But one furious Stark is the least of my worries right now. I worry about Jon. He and Aegon are diametrically different, you know? Jon is the epitome of responsibility and duty, takes things very seriously and does not admit his own weaknesses. Aegon, on the other hand, is more peaceful and aware that there is a limit to his abilities. Above all he conducts his passions milder form. One day it can be madly in love and the next day he forget about it, but ... Jon is not the type that get over such a thing. He could never forget you, as disturbing as it may sound. The girls he had during these years, they all invariably had characteristics that made him remember of you. So tell me, young lady, I have no reason to worry about the boy whom I love as a grandchild?"

"Did you know my father, Aemon?" She asked, taking a sip of champagne.

"I met him. An honest and reliable man, I'd say. A good man." Aemon replied.

"So you know he never wanted anything bad to happen to your precious empire and much less the death of Rhaegar in that tragic accident. My father had no pleasure in seeing someone else's misfortune, nor contributed to it."Arya said seriously. "What makes you think I'm different? It wasn't only Jon who hasn't forgotten the past, nor is he the only one who has a lot to lose if something goes wrong."

"Don't get me wrong, my dear." Aemon said smiling. "I just think both too young to understand the dimension that it can take. I fear, Miss Stark, you can't avoid breaking his heart, but I sincerely hope I'm wrong."

**Oh well I do not mind**

**If you do not mind**

**'Cause I do not shine**

**If you do not shine**

**Before you go**

**Can you read my mind?**

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

In the late spring the newspapers informed the arrest of Cersei and Jaime Lannister for having masterminded the murder of Ned Stark and his wife. Cersei was the wife of Senator Robert Baratheon, who had favored the Lannister contracts and partnerships with the government and embezzled millions from the public coffers. Ned Stark had been aide to Robert for years and went on to cause major problems for the Lannisters and their corruption schemes.

Cersei and Jaime Lannister plotted the murder when they found that Ned Stark had a dossier that proved all the schemes in which they were involved. Catelyn Stark had only been dead for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Arya cried watching the news that night and clung to Jon so hard that he came to think she could break some of his ribs. The justice would be done, even if Jon needed to use the power and influence of his company to push public opinion against the crime.

Robb called that night to talk with Arya. She cried all the time during the call, before handle the phone to Jon. Cousins talked about the case and Jon was determined to send Sam to the United States to stay abreast of the case and what could still be done.

"Things still a mess here, but we are coping well with it." Robb said. "Bran and Rickon are more adapted. Jayne and I talked about it and now the baby was born, maybe Arya should come home."

"I think it's not a good idea." Jon replied immediately. "She began studying and is adapting to school. Get her out of here will destabilize her again and I don't think that will bring any good."

"I have to go to London anyway at the end of the month." Robb said. "We are signing a contract to assist in the works for the Olympics. I'd like to see you."

"She'll be happy with it." Jon said, trying to hide the worry in his voice. "I'll see you soon, then."

"I hope so." Robb said relieved. "Thanks for everything, Jon. You can't imagine how much it means to all of us what you have done."

"Family is for these things." Shortly after Jon hung up and stared at Arya, who was sitting on the couch curled up like a baby cat.

The anxiety spread across his chest like a plague. There was no way to ignore that Robb's presence would change things between them. Arya would be tempted by the possibility of coming home and Jon would have little or nothing to say about it. It was her right and perhaps the best option, but he wouldn't give up that chance of happiness. He didn't want to lose her again.

She went to the room after kiss him goodnight. Jon sat on the couch for a while longer while enjoying a glass of whiskey. Ned and Cat Stark could be at peace now, but his head was a mess.

He felt like that kid who was caught kissing his cousin in an empty room and sent away the following week. It was like having Cat Stark dragging chains inside that house, but now the situation in which he found himself was considerably worse. Kisses had little consequence compared to the times he had bedded Arya during those last months, even with all his reluctance to do so.

There was little or nothing he was prepared to deny her. Even when he had serious intentions to slowly build a relationship, Arya had put down all the principles, strengths and imbalances that he had. She even had her own bedroom but shared a room with him more often than not.

Losing her now was out of question. Losing her was more than he was prepared to endure. He was blind for not noticing the void that existed in his life before Arya occupy the space. Sadness and grief were parts of her, as were the taunts, the keen intelligence and unexpected vulnerability. All that fascinated him beyond imagination.

There was a purpose in life and a reason to come home every day. There was tenderness and companionship. It was as if Arya had balanced his life in those few months and stoked that need has always existed within him and until then had been suppressed.

**It's funny how you just break down**

**Waitin 'on some sign**

**I pull up to the front of your driveway**

**The magic soakin 'my spine**

**Can you read my mind?**

**Can you read my mind?**

When he left heading towards the bedroom, he noticed that Arya was sleeping in her own room. He watched through the door. She was laid on the bed, curled up like a child. Jon remembered when she would run to his bed when she had a nightmare, or was afraid of the dark. She was no longer afraid of the dark, but it was his turn to feel vulnerable and fearful.

He entered her room, footsteps silent as the ones of a cat. He lay down beside her, putting his arm around her waist and pulling her close to him. Arya awoke immediately, smelling alcohol on his breath and his hand coming down indiscreetly through her abdomen, looking for an opening in her clothes to touch her.

Were rare times that Jon took initiative without any encouragement from her. Usually it was she who led him to it after numerous provocations. His mouth traced the outline of her neck, causing chills and excitement completely different from other times. His fingers were able to circumvent the elastic of her pants and underwear, tapping the hidden point between her sex, making her arch against him.

"What?" She asked between excitation and complete mess.

Jon didn't bother to answer. His mouth was busy playing with her earlobe, nibbling, licking and sucking. His fingers played shamelessly, determined to raise suffered moans, spasms and contractions of her. His arms were strong and pressed against him like that for the first time she met a side of him that Arya was completely unaware until that moment. A primitive and possessive side, as if he was marking his territory, or just making sure she was where she should be.

When moisture between her legs and spasms denounced her orgasm, Jon laid her back on the bed, positioning himself over her. The kiss tasted like whiskey, necessity and urgency. Bites give a touch of wildness. Those attitudes disrupted. She had never been treated in such an imperative way by him. She never felt so desired before.

He was in every corner of her body and his patience to barriers and resistance was low. With poke Jon broke all the buttons of Arya's pajama and his mouth covered every inch of exposed skin. When his mouth reached her right nipple, Arya couldn't help the loud groan that escaped her throat without warning. He sucked hard, leaving sensitive skin sore and causing the heat to take care of her body.

Soon, he got rid of his own clothes and her pajama pants. When there was no longer anything to prevent their bodies from joining, Jon turned all his attention to her fragile and slender body, clinging tightly with need, leaving reddish marks on the skin and kissing so intensely that she would have several bruises to worry about the next day.

She could feel him hard pressing against her entry. Jon looked so fierce and so out of his element that Arya couldn't help the feeling of fear and expectation within. It was as if she was an oasis and he was thirsty. It was as if the world was about to end and Jon needed the assurance that she would be there in his last moments.

"Jon ..." She whispered as she felt his touch between her legs again, but now a little ruder than the previous.

He paused for a moment and stared into her eyes. He kissed her mouth hungrily and insisted to continue playing until his fingers were sticky and she was breathless.

That was not her Prince Charming or her hero, or her childhood sweetheart. He was a man whose passions were repressed for so long and now he was out of control. That man was all desire, guilt, fear and need. He no longer cared about being careful or to show affection in each caress. There was something primitive and rude about hands, which made her remember the first boy she had had sex with. Gendry was a nice guy who did the favor to teach her a thing or two in bed, but he could never leave her as excited as she was now.

She screamed as she felt Jon invade her. It was a short scream that escaped her throat and made Arya bite her lower lip hard. Jon took her hands above her head, keeping her immobilized as he pounded deeper and deeper in a slow pace.

He kissed her endlessly. His movements were fluid and she soon found herself moving her hips against him, urging him to go deeper and deeper inside her, making her feel incredibly full.

"Say my name!" He hadn't stop moving. A voice deep and husky to her ear would have been enough to take her to another orgasm. "Say!"

"Jon!" She said.

"Again!" He ordered again.

"Jon, Jon, Jon ... "She could feel the focus lost and the vision becomes cloudy with the proximity of another wave of pleasure.

She kept repeating his name, asking for more, and muttering things that made no sense. He continued, determined to last much, much more. He flexed her knees, making the channel even narrower while maintaining a strong pace, causing an almost unbearable friction. Her orgasm came with overwhelming force, while Jon continued moving for another few minutes until he pour into her.

Arya was exhausted when he rolled to the side, without releasing her. Jon laid his head on her chest, still wide awake and restless for some reason. She stroked his head, running her fingers through his dark curls, while Jon focused on the beats of her heart and breath that made her breasts rise and fall.

"Is something bothering you?" She asked at one point, when the silence was becoming uncomfortable. "I thought you were happy with the news today."

"Don't get me wrong. I was glad that Cersei and Jaime were arrested."Jon said without turning around to face her.

"Still is restless and worried." She said. "You haven't changed a bit about it, you know? Come on, tell me what's bothering you so much."

"Robb's coming here. He should come at the end of the month." Jon finally said. "He thinks you should go home."

They were silent for a few seconds.

"And you don't want me to go, but don't have the guts to say it." Arya said closing her eyes.

"There is not about courage. I don't have the right to require you to choose between me and your siblings." He said. "I won't do that."

"Sometimes I wish you were more selfish." She said, stroking his head. "Say what you want, Jon. Admit you want something you shouldn't and send the world and the opinion of others to hell. I won't blame you for that, I won't be angry or resent to you just because you were honest."

"And if I did, what would you choose?" He asked, looking exhausted. "They are your family and you were separated from them in drastic conditions to say the least. It is normal to want to go home. This can be at best considered a temporary situation, not a home."

"You ask too much of yourself." She said seriously. "Not everything is at your fingertips, Jon. I lost my parents in a violent way, I'm still not over it and probably will never overcome it, but there's nothing you can do about it." She kissed his forehead. " I miss my siblings, as much as you missed when you came to London, this is normal. I'm not making demands, or demanding you to make me the happiest person in the world within a few months. Wounds take time to heal."

"You haven't said what you would choose." Jon commented.

"I don't know." She said knowing the effect her words would have on him. "I think everything got more complicated since Christmas. Maybe before I would have been able to get out without great suffering, but now ... It's hard to give up dreams that seem so close."

"That's why I wanted to go slow." He said grumpy.

"And I didn't want to wait another eight years until you realized that I am no longer a child. I wanted you too." She replied firmly. "For God's sake, Jon. Stop thinking that you can control everything, or that I can avoid suffering in one way or another. Not because I said you were my hero you have to go around wearing a cape. Admit what you want! Tell me something selfish! Ask me stupid things in the name of it, but be honest with yourself and admit that you are human!"

"I love you." He said staring at her for the first time during that dialogue. "This is the most selfish thing I could tell you now. I love you and I want everything. I want you, I want a life with you, with a house with French windows and a fireplace. I want a happy ending for both of us and I don't want you to go away, either because of Robb, Bran, Rickon, Sansa, or anyone else."

"Then we are the two most selfish people in the world." She said kissing his mouth. "It was not so hard, was it?"

"You have no idea." He replied closing his eyes and kissing her back.

**The teenage queen**

**The loaded gun**

**The drop dead dream**

**The chosen one**

**The southern drawl (?)**

**The world unseen**

**The city wall**

**And a trampoline**

**Well I do not mind**

**If you do not mind**

**Coz I do not shine**

**If you do not shine**

**Before you jump**

**Tell me what you find**

**When you read my mind**

Without caring about the nakedness of each other, they went back to kissing and petting, causing the blood to heat up again in his veins and discovering that passion hasn't been consumed. She bewitched, she had him in the palm of hands and looked absolutely secure pf every step she took when all Jon could offer in return were doubts.

She responded to his caresses immediately and without reservation. Arya wasn't ashamed of take initiative, or say what she wanted. Her honesty and her courage often intimidated, almost as much as fascinated. She was bold and much more well resolved than him in regard to their relationship. Perhaps because she had no idea of how serious Jon's intentions of where. When she realized that there would be no way back.

When he said he wanted everything, that he wanted a happy ending for the two them and a life with her, Jon was not kidding. The only thing that prevented him from propose sooner was the fact that she was still a minor and they were both too young to think of a long term relationship, let alone marriage.

In a few years it could turn to be a good idea, according to Aemon, but Jon was not willing to wait that long. He wanted it all and wanted now. He wanted Arya waking up beside him every day and the world to get used to it. He didn't want to get frightened by the closeness of her family.

Catelyn Stark failed to put an end to a childhood crush. All she did was turn that feeling into something much more intense and tough. Maybe, if everything had gone wrong between them at that time, Jon could live without wanting her. A curiosity sated and they would be free from each other.

She lay back on the bed, kissed her mouth, neck and chest, knowing exactly how and where to tease him. She was purring next to his ear, like a cat, as her body took care to awake his.

How could he get bored of it now? The had returned to each other's lives by loneliness and treasured memories. There was tenderness and familiarity. It was eight years dreaming of that reunion. Eight years fantasizing and creating expectations that until now were being met.

Arya took him in her hands, massaging, stimulating until he was desperate for relief. She sat on him, leading him into herself again. Jon grabbed her hips, pushing until it was possible to feel her entirely around him.

It was like a dance. Her breasts fit in the palm of his hand. Her hips moved with the precision of an artist. She knew what to do to drive him crazy and drive him to pleasure in minutes.

He grabbed her thighs, his hand up her ass, scraping and begging for more speed. Arya responded to commands immediately, as he lifted the chest in an attempt to reach her nipples with his mouth. She was sweet. To hell with Robb Stark and the others. To hell with Aemon, the business and the rest of the world. As long as Arya was there he didn't care.

Arya didn't resist too long before getting another orgasm that night. Jon grabbed her by the waist tightly and inverted positions, still unsatisfied. Again he sought relief and accomplishment, as if Arya could him you that in just a few moments of pleasure.

It would never be enough. It would never be enough.

When he went to lie down beside her, hugging her and feeling her scent mixed with her he thought about the types of reactions they would get if Robb discovered.

Most likely it would be something close to a catastrophe, but after a few hours given to the wishes of one another, Jon didn't care so much about the cousin. If Arya wanted by his side, the world would have to get used to it.

"You still look like you're going to have a stroke at any time." She said sleepily.

"This time the thoughts are happier, I promise." He said, kissing her forehead.

"What would be a happy thought for you?" She asked, closing her eyes and snuggling into his chest.

"You told me to make absurd requests on behalf of my selfishness." He said. "I may have one in mind."

"And what would it be?" She said, eyes still closed.

"Will you marry me?" He finally asked and felt Arya hold her breath for a split second.

"Are you serious?" She asked.

"Of course I am, but I'll understand if you say no. As I said, is an absurd request. You are still very young and all." He said without much hope.

"Yes." The answer came quick and foolproof, with one shot.

"Say what?" He asked incredulously.

"I said yes." Arya said "I agree, Jon."

**Slippin in my faith**

**Until I fall**

**He never returned que call**

**Woman, open the door**

**Do not let it stay**

**I wanna breathe again que fire**

**She said**

**I do not mind**

**If you do not mind**

**Coz I do not shine**

**If you do not shine**

**Put your back on me**

**Put your back on me**

**Put your back on me**

**The stars are blazing**

**Like rebel diamonds**

**Cut out of the sun**

**Can you read my mind?**

Author's note: "Heaven won't last forever". This is the idea of the chapter and now things get tense. Thank you guys for the reviews. You're too kind. I know there are many mistakes in my amateur translation and also some sentences that don't make sense. Portuguese is a funny language. We have a multitude of tools we can use in a text and still make sense even when I write a sentence three lines long (or paragraph size. I love them). In Portuguese punctuation is a living hell and in translations it is maddening. I hope you can understand it anyway and give it a shot.

Just to make things clear. I didn't meant Americans hate cousins that marriage cousins or any think like that. Again. When I receive reviews, normally, American readers tend to be more resistant or sensible to the topic as if to read a fic like this one is a kind of guilty pleasure. No offense meant, ok?

Music: Read My Mind, The Killers.

Kisses

Bee


	3. Chapter 3

**Save some face, you know you've only got one**

**Change your ways while you're young**

**Boy, one day you'll be a man**

**Oh girl, he'll help you understand**

She saw her brother from a distance. Her heart skipped a beat when she felt Robb's strong embrace. He had red hair and blue eyes just like their mother. Despite his young age he seemed to have aged ten years in the last few months, just like her.

The loss was severe with both, but it was Robb who carried the greater burden on his shoulder by taking responsibilities assumed by their father. As the eldest son, as the only one with knowledge of the family's business, Robb took not only the contractor but also the younger siblings.

He was penalized for not having psychological structure to keep her nearby, along with Bran and Rickon. Maybe he would never forgive himself for this and even though she would have preferred to stay with the rest of the family at the time of the death of parents, Arya had no resentments directed at him. Maybe she should thank him for having asked Jon to be her guardian. Maybe she should thank Robb for giving her that chance.

Arya hugged him and without realizing she started to cry. Jon was right behind her, obviously insecure and unhappy with Robb's arrival. It wasn't a matter of keeping her for himself. It was just insecurity. Jon was afraid and always would be, no matter how many times she said she wouldn't leave him. Maybe because deep down he knew she wanted to go back to her family, perhaps because she wasn't even sure of her own reaction if Robb waved the possibility of her return to home.

Her home was now an apartment close to the Hyde Park, with sophisticated decor, overpriced artworks and the silence of a cathedral. Her former home was now her brother's. Her siblings became good memories. Her parents were ghosts and Jon was her only chance of a fresh start.

She didn't like the apartment or the silence. Didn't like the impersonality and lack of warmth she felt there. She felt like an object that was part of the decoration when Jon wasn't around. At least he always returned home about the time she had finished her studies and then he would keep her company. They had diner together, talked, watched television and ended up sleeping in each other's arms.

Sometimes she wondered if that was the right thing to do. She wondered if Jon wasn't dreaming to high about future or maybe if she wasn't encouraging him in the wrong way. With Robb around those issues were a constant and Jon's insecurity was more pronounced than ever.

Arya had never bothered to think about how they were separated in the past. Perhaps because her infant head had assumed that he didn't like her anymore and prefer to go to London to be an important man. Her mother had said that Jon had obligations and had to better prepare for the future and nothing could distract him. Now Arya understand what Cat meant was that she was a distraction and that Jon should stay away to avoid problems to the Stark family.

She never wanted to know what happened to him, but sometimes she caught herself perusing magazines in which Jon appeared in social columns or business headlines. He had become someone important, and there was no room for memories of a little girl in love with him in his new world.

When he took her to the apartment, bending over backwards to please her and make her less miserable, Arya felt that perhaps there was something of that boy with whom she was in love with in childhood within him. To her surprise, it wasn't an exclusivity of her to remember that kiss during the last eight years. Jon didn't manage to forget what they had in childhood. Waking up in his bed, in his arms, after a night of passion and comfort was both joy and reason for panic.

It was like giving up all the childhood dreams at once. To destroy her idol and turn him into a man without, however, fail to worship him. She never felt guilty for falling in love with him, it seemed natural at the time. In fact she wasn't aware of the dimension that a simple brush of lips could have in their lives and now she found herself trapped in the role of his mistress. However, that important man, with a fortune and an empire wasn't the nice guy who gave her a Swiss Army knife.

Just as she wasn't aware of the consequences of her actions eight years ago, she never thought Jon could have suffered much more than her with the separation, to the point of wanting to face half the world for a chance to win back what was taken from him so sudden.

He had no family and she has long been the main female figure in his life. In London there was nothing like it until she went to live with him. It was enough that she gave in to her own desires for him to consume her all at once. Arya was aware that she had given him hopes and now Jon was not willing to let her go a second time, to the point of asking her to marry him.

She just couldn't tell why she accepted his propose, but she could understand now the wisdom behind Aemon's words. She was feeling like Lyanna, trapped in a delicate situation between a fulminating passion and her family's anger. She didn't want Robb to know what was going on. He would never understand, and to make matters worse he and Jon would end up fighting.

_"I fear, Miss Stark, you can't avoid breaking his heart ..."_ those words haunted her at the time Robb hugged her and Jon watched the reunion with sweet eyes that hid his anxiety.

"You look good." Robb said looking at her in an evaluative way. "Have you been eating properly? Are you practicing some physical activity? What about your new school, how are you adjusting?"

"One question at a time, for God's sake!" She replied laughing. "I'm fine, Robb. Seriously. You're talking just like mother."

"Someone needs to now that she is no longer here." Robb replied with a touch of melancholy she shared.

"Let's not talk about it now." She said kissing his face. "How are Bran and Rickon?"

"They are well. Rickon begged to come with me. He misses you so much." Robb said putting his arm around her shoulders.

"I miss him too." She replied. "And Jayne? I have a nephew now! My God, how is he, Robb?"

"Jayne is great. She is tired, of course. Taking care of a baby is not easy, but the boys are helping in what they can." Robb said pulling out his wallet to show the first picture of the child. "Look at him. Isn't he beautiful?"

"Oh, Robb! He looks like you!" Arya replied laughing ta the picture of her nephew. "Look, Jon! Isn't he beautiful?"

Jon came to see the picture and smiled at the sight of the baby in Jayne's arms.

"He is beautiful, yes." Jon answered. " What is his name, Robb?"

"Rickard, like Grandpa." Robb replied proudly. "I wish you could see him personally."

"It would be great. Maybe when Arya's vacation begging." Jon said in a pleasant way. It was a promise that he wouldn't comply. She knew it, and her heart squeezed in her chest.

"Are you staying with us?" Arya asked her brother.

"I can't. I'm full of compromises in the city and don't want to disturb you and Jon with the routine you have. I'm staying in a hotel, but I will visit you when everything is a little calmer. I have a week for this." Robb smiled and kissed her forehead. "I missed you, little sister."

"I missed you too." And she would have to be blind not to see how it all was torturing Jon.

**Smile like you mean it**

**Smile like you mean it**

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Her toes still tingled and her body seemed made of jelly. She wasn't particularly willing to think about sex that day, but Jon wasn't interested in sleeping, or letting her sleep either. He was spectacularly skilled at changing her mind and now she felt the space between her legs sticky.

Robb's presence in the city was messing with their heads and Arya no longer knew whether she wanted her brother to stay or to leave ASAP. That tension was anything but pleasant. Lay down with Jon seemed abominable thing for the first time since Christmas. Now she felt the reversal of the balance.

While Jon seemed determined to establish a serious relationship with her and overcome all the traumas and guilt past, now it was Arya who felt guilty for giving wings to a child's fantasy.

How many girls her age could say for sure that they had found their charming princes? Very few or none, but no one had ever told her that her prince was her cousin, even if that relationship would never be approved by her family, the Charming Prince wanted to make her his princess as soon she came of age.

Seventeen years old ... She didn't even have legal permission to sit in a bar in the United States and have a beer. It was hardly a good age to decide to spend the rest of her life with someone. She was not sure about the career she wanted to pursue, which university she wanted to attend, or even whether or not she wanted to stay in London.

She felt his mouth kissing her neck as his fingers touched her between her legs again, teasing and hinting that Jon was not yet satisfied for one night. Arya pulled back his hand and stared at Jon with a hint of dissatisfaction.

"Enough for today. Can we sleep, please?" She asked kissing his mouth slightly. Jon looked annoyed.

"Okay." He said lying back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. She didn't have to be a genius to know that he was definitely upset.

"I don't want you to get upset with me." She said, breaking the silence. "I'm just tired."

"I'm not upset." He said seriously.

"So why this scowling?" She asked, staring at him.

"I just ..." He paused a moment." You were anywhere in the world but this bed." He answered firmly. "Until now you have always been able to surrender completely, now Robb arrives and I feel that you responded to my caresses as if it was an obligation."

"Don't be dramatic, Jon." She said mumbling.

"I'm not being dramatic." He replied. "I'm saying what I felt. You are strange today. I get close to you and you avoid me, turns away pretending that I'm not around. I want to know what is happening."

"Please, Jon." She said getting up from the bed. "I don't feel ready, that's all. And yes, with Robb here I feel tense, so what?! Sue me! As if I were the one who took months to be able to overcome all the moral issues in the world before stick a hand inside my panties without antidepressants before."

"Apparently it is you who are having conscience issues now." He muttered angry. "Robb brings you the possibility to go back to your family, and then you no longer need me to comfort you."

"And there you go with this story again." She rose from bed angry, grabbing her clothes on the floor "I'm not using you as a substitute or for consolation."

"No, you're just using me to satisfy some fantasy of yours." He replied. "Perhaps the lust has passed."

"You're being unfair." She said turning to face him.

- Am I? - He threw her a cynical look. "In last months you had no choice but to comply with it here." He said, opening his arms. "Now that Robb is here you have a choice. It's simple, Arya. It's me or them. Now you know how it is to be bedded by your childhood sweetheart. You know how good your cousin is in bed. You can go home now, live your life and sweep what we had to the underside of the carpet, pretending that nothing happened."

"You're an idiot!" She said promptly. "You're not the only one who spent the last eight years remembering that day. Stop thinking that you are the only one who has something to lose in this relationship!" Arya put a baggy shirt which she wore to sleep and walked toward the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jon asked as he rose from the bed at once, still naked.

"Back to my room. Someone needs to sleep well tonight and I have a paper to submit tomorrow morning." She said slamming the door and leaving him alone.

**Looking back at sunsets on the Eastside**

**We lost track of the time**

**Dreams aren't What They used to be**

**Somethings Set by so carelessly**

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

It was a beautiful Saturday morning and the contracts had been signed. The day was bright and sunny when Robb came to the apartment next to Hyde Park to visit his cousin and sister.

His first reaction was to be astonished as he observed the luxury of the place. The Stark lived in a huge house in the suburb of Washington and had a very high living standard. However, they were a large family, so the place has never looked so clean, or as well as decorated as Jon's place. Works of art found throughout the environment impeccably organized, as if it had come straight out of a decoration catalog.

It was hard to imagine his rebellious sister living there. The place didn't fit Arya and her dynamic life style. Robb took a deep breath as he realized that all of them had to adapt to the situation in the best way possible. It was sad to see the precious years that were stolen from her because of that misfortune.

Arya received him and if Cat were still alive she would be proud of her daughter wearing more feminine clothes and acting as a hostess. She offered him a drink and the two sat down to chat. Jon appeared shortly after, showered and with his usual serious face. It was amazing how much he looked like Ned Stark.

Jon sat down beside her and Robb noticed how Arya moved in her sit, as if she was extremely uncomfortable. As the three talked, he also noticed how Arya eyes avoided the cousin, or how she avoided speaking to him unless it was necessary. It reminded him of some ugly arguments he had with Jeyne over the years.

That thought made him uncomfortable. Probably they had discussed about something as the organization, or about leaving dirty dishes in the sink. Arya was never particularly good following orders and adapt to a new home, with new rules must have been difficult for her. It didn't make sense to think about a couple's fight, after all they were cousins.

Arya asked permission to check if everything was in order at the kitchen and ask the maid to serve the meal. Jon watched her leave the room and Robb felt tightness in his chest.

He looked at her with admiration and as if he was unsure about what to do. Robb wondered if Arya was giving more trouble to Jon than he had anticipated. It wasn't easy dealing with a teenage girl at her age. It wasn't easy for someone with so many obligations as Jon to adapt to a new lifestyle overnight.

"And how are things going with her?" Robb finally asked." I hope Arya isn't giving you too much trouble."

"Things are going well, but sometimes it's hard to deal with the expectations of another person, I suppose." Jon replied taking a sip of whiskey. "She misses you."

"And we miss her too." Robb said.

"Still want to take her back home?" Jon asked glancing at his cousin. Robb couldn't tell if he wanted Arya to return to her family, or if he was desperate for her to stay. It was when Robb realized that the last eight years had been lonely for Jon.

"That's what I wanted to, but you were right when you said that it would destabilize her again. She is in the midst of studies and well adapted to the new school as you said." Robb replied. "Yet I still want to talk to her about it. To know what she thinks about it."

"Of course." Jon replied in a dull tone.

When Arya returned to the room announced that lunch was served. Robb asked permission to go to wash before the meal and left them alone for a moment.

There was something in the environment and he couldn't tell what it was. Maybe it was his imagination or just adaptation for which they had passed what was causing this strange feeling, but the truth was ta Arya didn't look like his troublesome sister anymore.

She walked around the house, acted and spoke as if she was the owner. She received him as a hostess and did all the small talk while Jon didn't appear. Arya didn't look like a guest there and when Jon sat beside her and the two remained in that peculiar behavior to avoid talking to each other, Robb could almost see his father and mother sitting there, trying to pretend that they hadn't discussed.

Robb didn't know what was going on between them and was not sure whether he was liking the sound of it. He washed his hands and left the restroom. Maybe bring Arya back home was indeed the best option.

As he approached the dining room he slowed the steps down when he heard two voices whispering urgently.

"How many times do I have to say that I'm sorry for everything I said?" - Jon asked in a mortified voice. "Arya, please."

"This is not the right moment to discuss it. Robb is here." She replied quickly. "We will talk about it later."

"Damn Robb. I'm tired of arguing with you and I can't stand it anymore." Jon insisted.

"Jon, not now." She replied.

"You want to leave me, don't you?" Jon questioned looking anxious.

"No! Of course not." She replied. What the hell was going on here? Robb took a few careful steps and can saw Jon and Arya reflected in the mirror across the room.

He watched as Jon stared Arya. The same worship ever, mixed with a hint of desperation and urgency that Robb could not and would not understand. Jon touched her hand on the table, lacing his fingers with hers, and Arya seemed restless and worried that someone might surprise them.

"Say you forgive me." Jon asked her tilting her face to say something in her ear. Arya closed her eyes immediately and Robb felt his blood warm.

"I forgive you." Arya said. Her eyes still closed and Jon smiled in response before getting her lips with his.

That was the last straw. Robb came out of his hiding spot and was at Jon's throat before he could be aware of what Robb was doing. He grabbed his cousin's shoulders, pulling him away from Arya quickly and punched him in the face. Jon was stunned for a split second.

He was beyond reason and beyond sanity. Robb tried to hit Jon again, but he dodged quickly and put in a defensive position, while trying to clean the blood from the corner of his mouth. Somewhere in the room, Arya screamed and begged for Robb to stop it, but he couldn't register very well what was happening around him.

Robb tried to hit his cousin a few more times until he felt Arya's hands trying to grab him by the sweater he wore. Jon hadn't said anything, just dodged the blows left and letting Robb release all his anger and indignation.

"I asked you to take care of her, not to take her in to your bed!" Robb said. A sick feeling churned inside him. "I trusted you!"

"Robb, stop it please!" Arya also asked grabbing him by his clothes.

"Stop? He is just like his father! A bastard! A fucking pervert who doesn't even have the courage to deny what he did to you!" Robb tried to pull it. Jon lowered his face, still wiping the cut in the corner of his mouth. "LOOK AT ME BASTARD!"

"Robb, enough already!" Arya insisted.

"Yes, it's enough. You go get your stuff. We're getting out of here." Robb replied turning to his sister.

"No, she won't." It was the first time that Jon manifested after his cousin's attack. Robb turned to face him, shocked at his boldness.

"You won't stop me." Robb retaliated and Jon stepped in front of him. Nothing on his face indicated that he was prepared to give up the fight.

"I am her legal guardian according to the tome of paper that you signed a few months ago. Arya stay with me until she come of age or get emancipated." Jon replied firmly. "I don't care what you say, threats that do, or anything. She stays."

"You pervert bastard!" Robb retaliated. "How dare you to talk to me like this after having seduced my baby sister?"

"Robb, shut up before you say more screwed up!" Arya stepped between Jon and her brother, in an attempt to prevent further aggression. "No one seduced anyone here, so start acting like an adult and listen to what he has to say!"

"I won't hear anything. He had no right!" Robb grabbed his sister's arm. "For God's sake, you are cousins! This is sick and illegal!"

"This is and and illegal where you came from. Here it is all perfectly legal and acceptable." Jon replied shaking Robb's wrist to let Arya go. "If you would listen to what we have to say, maybe you could understand what is happening, rather than just scream like a caveman."

"I don't have to understand anything. I'll take my sister back home, from where she should never have left!" Robb insisted. "If my father were alive you would have killed him in disgust."

"Robb, I'm not leaving here." Arya said seriously, staring at his brother in the eyes. "You have two options. You can either calm down and listens, or continues to act this way and I will call the security. You choose, but whatever it is, I won't leave the apartment just because you are unable to pay attention to what I'm saying."

"You got to be crazy, Arya!" Robb snapped.

"I'm not the one having a violent attack here. So sit down and listen." She retaliated.

Robb moved away from his cousin and, walked backward, incredulous, until he reached the couch and sit down to look at them. Jon was still standing and Arya went to him, touching his face and assessing whether there was any major damage. He lowered his eyes to look at her and Robb felt sick to see how that scene seemed intimate.

"Better put some ice on that." She said. Jon nodded his head negatively.

"It was nothing. I can take care of it later." He said, kissing her forehead. "First we have to solve it here." He said and Arya nodded.

Despite having been the author of the punch, it was Robb who was stunned with everything. Everything he knew at that moment was that whatever was going on between his sister and Jon, had exceeded the limits of any control. He feared that there was no painless solution for that.

**Smile like you mean it**

**Smile like you mean it**

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She wanted to hit one more punch at Jon for being so unbearably insistent on making peace while Robb was still inside the apartment. She suspected that it wasn't an unwanted attitude in fact. Jon was determined to assume what they had and face the consequences of it. If they could face by her older brother, the rest would be easy. He wanted to force her to assume a serious commitment publicly and Arya didn't even know if she was prepared for that.

It didn't matter any longer. The damage was done and she didn't want to leave Jon and relive their previous separation. Robb would have to calm down and listen to what she had to say.

Jon sat in the chair opposite to the sofa, facing Robb as she stood. Arya took a deep breath trying to imagine what he would say to his brother. Admitting that that she had fantasized countless embarrassing situations with her cousin since she entered puberty was out of the question.

"You wanted me to listen, I'm listening." Robb muttered.

"First of all, let's clarify something here. Nobody seduced anyone and if it had happened it probably would have been me trying to lure Jon and not the other way around." She said at once. There was no point in looking for a less shocking way of putting it and tact was never her forte. Robb looked at her as if he'd been punched in the stomach. "Jon always behaved like a perfect gentleman toward me."

"Yes, I could see it by the way he seemed desperate to grab you just now. Spare me this ridiculous defense, Arya." Robb retaliated.

"Robb, for God's sake, shut up!" It was time for Jon to answer. "I spent years reminding of your mother's lecture. I definitely don't need to hear yours."

"What?" Robb asked confused.

"You really think Cat Stark would put me out of her house without first making sure that I would feel guilty enough to never entertain the possibility of going near your sister again? The answer is no. So nothing you say in an attempt to accuse and offend me will be a novelty." Jon spoke impatiently.

"How long is this happening?" Robb asked fearfully. Jon and Arya cast meaningful glances at each other.

"It depends. If "it" means how long we are in love with each other, or how long we're fucking each other, or having a more mature relationship. Call it however you like." Arya said fully aware of how much it would bother her brother. "And don't look at me with that face. It is not as if you thought I was still a after you saw Gendry jumping the window of my room in the middle of the night."

"Who is Gendry?" Jon asked growling almost immediately.

"Completely beside the point, Jon." She replied. "The time gap between one option and the other approximately eight years, just for the record."

Robb looked at her sister dumbfounded and completely unresponsive. Great, at least he had stopped screaming. As for the face Jon was making since Gendry's name was mentioned was another matter with which she would deal later.

"Someone please tell this story from the beginning, before I decide to hang one of you." Robb snarled once more.

"What your sister is trying to say is that something happened eight years ago and caused my hasty change to London." Jon replied. "You surely remember that time, Robb. How we were friends. How I always worried about her. How I was the best cousin Arya could have."

"Until...?" Robb and Arya stared gasped.

"Until her birthday, when I gave Arya my favorite pocketknife as gift. It was your suggestion, remember?" Jon stared at his cousin without hesitation.

"And what that has to do with this?" Robb insisted.

"When he gave me the knife we were both happy and living in a sort of parallel world, until we ended up kissing and Mom arrived just in time. Obviously she saw malice where there was not. We were kids playing a reckless game that none of us knew. The result was that she sent Jon to London while I stayed home, thinking he didn't like me anymore."

"This is all sickening." Robb rolled his eyes and touched his face. Could it get any worse, or there was a limit to embarrassing scenes?

"I never touched her at that time, Robb." Jon hastened to say. "God, I couldn't even think of Arya as a girl."

"I'm glad to hear the caveat "at that time"." Robb grumbled. "Finish the story before I throw up here."

"I was in love with Jon during all my childhood and I think even you could see it then." Arya said with a shrug. "It is clear that after eight years it was impossible to expect that something of that feeling had left over. But the truth is has. When I arrived here I realized fact that I had not forgotten what happened as I also found myself wishing that it happened again. Well, that was it. I didn't expect it to be something reciprocal, but it is. And before you say, this has nothing to do with the mourning, or with how much I miss home. It just happened."

"And you expect me to accept it as if it was a normal thing? You kissed my sister when she was nine years old and wait until she turns seventeen to take her to bed? Now you expect me to be happy with it. To understand and find it normal?" Robb said staring directly at Jon.

"I don't expect for your approval, acceptance , or anything." Jon said getting up from the chair "I'm just tired of hiding what I feel for her and of thinking I'm some kind of abomination. I love your sister, Robb. Only God knows since when I feel like this. You don't need to accept. You don't need to give me your blessing, because it makes no difference. If Arya wants me, I don't care about anything else."

"It's too much for me." Robb said still in shock. Jon put his arm around her shoulders and allowed Arya to lay her head against his body. At least she could tell that she felt less vulnerable when he did it. Jon kissed her forehead and she felt trapped. There was one last detail to be said and she did not feel secure enough to talk about it. "So that's it. You expect to live with her like lovers. That won't happen even over my dead body."

"Lovers is not the word I have in mind." Jon was the first to broach the subject and Robb lifted his head to face both of them, as if waiting for a sign of contradiction to his suspicions. Arya took a deep breath. It was time to put the cards on the table and assume the compromise.

"Jon proposed to me a few weeks ago and I accepted." Arya spoke as if it took a heavy burden from her back and assuming an overwhelming responsibility at the same time. "In a few months I will be of age and this will be possible."

"You're seventeen. That is the stupidest idea anyone could have." Robb replied.

"You were eighteen when you started dating Jayne and told me that she was the one for you. At the time you even said you could imagine yourself marrying her." Arya retaliated. "I think the same thing, Robb. The difference is that I think about it since I was nine."

She signed the pact with the devil and paid the price for it. Robb left the apartment a few minutes later, asking for a time to assimilate everything while she stayed behind, trapped in that cold apartment, tied to all her doubts, fears and expectations.

Arya closed her eyes trying to save the image of that scene. Robb gave his back to her as if she was a leper, or worse. It was almost a preview of the reaction of her other siblings. She wanted to cry and ask him for comprehension, but she knew it would be useless. She wanted to scream at him to understand that she hadn't chosen to fall in love with Jon, but Robb was deaf.

When she realized, Jon was holding her and whispering things she did not understand, while her tears soaked his shirt. A few months ago she had been orphaned and now what's left of her family simply abandoned her. Arya Stark was alone in the world and it was a pain she never imagined she would feel.

**And someone is calling my name**

**From the back of the restaurant**

**And someone is playing a game**

**In the house that I grew up in**

**And someone will drive her around**

**Down The Same streets que I did**

**On The Same streets que I did**

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She couldn't say how or when she got into his bed, but when Arya managed to clear her mind and dry her eyes, Jon was arranging the pillows for her to be comfortable.

She couldn't understand that need he had to protect her and make sure she was okay, but Arya was grateful that he didn't say anything after Robb left the apartment. She didn't need was another reminder of how young she was and how those attitudes would affect her life forever. Arya come to think that she never had much choice about that. It would have happened even if her mother hadn't discovered and perhaps it would be much worse.

Jon lay beside her and stroked her head. She imagined how it must have been hard for him to hear everything Robb said, knowing that they had been best friends since childhood. Not much better than listening it his aunt own mouth, who sent him away when he was fourteen, for sure.

It made her realize the fact that he had spent all these years alone and how hard it was for him to put aside all his morals and accept what he felt for her fully. Nothing in that speech was news to him, but Arya was confronted with the severity of the judgment of others first time and didn't like it one bit.

"He will forgive you." Jon said breaking the silence as she felt the tears back. "Robb can be many things, but his is not unfair and he cares about his family. I can't blame him for trying to protect you as a brother should."

"He punched you, Jon. You shouldn't be trying to defend him." She replied wiping her eyes.

"I think if it was my sister I would have done the same." Jon answered away a strand of hair that falls over her eyes. "I'll understand if you have changed your mind."

"About what?" She lifted her head to face him.

"About the marriage, about me, about all this mess." He said, stroking her face. "I don't want it to become a reason for discord and hatred between us in the future."

"It won't change things, Jon." She replied. "Robb know everything now, he will think about it and probably will never be able to deal with all this information. He will tell the others and I will remain as the sister who was involved in a scandalous romance with an older cousin. I no longer belong to that house since a few months ago. It's as if I was predicting that I would never be a part of it again. You were right when you said that they wouldn't return and since there is very little I can do about it then you better not abandon me as well."

"Never." He said, kissing her forehead. Jon reached out for the nightstand and opened the drawer. He pulled out a little black box and handed it to her. Arya stared at the box without understanding exactly what it was. "This is yours."

She opened the box suspiciously and founded a solitary oval shaped ruby, surrounded by diamonds encrusted in white gold. Arya didn't know what to say, or think. If she still had any doubt about the seriousness of his proposal, that was an end to the matter.

If it was Sansa, she would probably be jumping of joy and rushing to show to her friends the outrageous size of the stone. Jayne would have blushed and then tried to hold back tears of joy, just as happened when Robb asked her to marry, but Arya simply didn't know what to do.

Jon took the ring from the box and held her hand, slipping the ring on the ring finger to the end. He kissed her hand with affection and admired the jewelry.

"She had your measure." He said as he watched the ring. "And my father had good taste."

"She?" Arya asked confused.

"This was the ring that my father gave to my mother when he proposed. It's yours now." He said fondly as he kissed her face. "I probably did the worst marriage proposal in the world, so I'll try to fix. I can't promise that we will always be happy, but I swear I'll try to make you never regret this choice. I can't say that one day your family will accept it, but we can start our own family. And I can't say that I will fulfill all your dreams, but we can dream other dreams together. That's what I have to offer you, Arya." He caressed her face as Arya felt unable to breathe. "Eight years ago I was in love with a girl of nine and now I love the woman she has become. That won't change."

"I didn't know you were such a romantic." She said not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Her heart was pounding and all she wanted to do was to kiss him and forget everything that had happened during that day.

"I'm asking you to marry me for the second time. If a man has no right to be ridiculously romantic such occasion, then when he will have?" He asked smiling. "I want to hear your answer, Ms. Arya Stark. Will you marry me?"

"Yes." she said feeling totally vulnerable before him.

She wanted to understand how he could do that. Whenever Jon touched her, either with desire or innocence, something inside her shuddered and became that nine year old girl again. Gendry was a guy for whom she had feelings. One could say that she was in love with him at the time, but even when she lost her virginity with Senator Robert's eldest son hadn't seemed so intimate and as powerful as the relationship she had with Jon.

Jon made her breathless and shaking inside. Made her heart fails and Arya couch herself daydreaming about the way he touched her. She was always anxious when it was time for him to come back home and when he finally arrived she ran to meet him at the door.

She remembered when he proposed to her weeks ago and how he had shown a side of him that she didn't know. The passion and aggression in his gestures frightened and fascinated her at the same time, so that she felt uncomfortable between his legs every time he remembered.

The way he kissed her now was always stronger and more determined. His hands shamelessly undressed her in such haste that Arya had no time to ask him to respect her moment of confusion. He knew that her answer to his proposal was as safe as a bridge made ropes. All that Jon wanted right now was to ensure that at least they would be together if the bridge went down.

She closed her eyes feeling his mouth down her neck and breasts, as she lay back on the bed. Jon was attentive and enjoyed listening to every sound of approval that she made. And every time they went to bed together, Arya felt more and more invaded by the need to have him close by, as if that childhood crush was nourished to the point of becoming something totally different.

Jon kissed her belly, circled her belly button with the tip of his tongue, then down over and over until Arya was almost begging him to just reach his goal. She wanted the painful pleasure and the blessing of a blurred mind, so she could forget the disappointment, anger and disgust stamped on Robb's face. She wanted Jon to taste her with his mouth. She wanted him to take her several times that night to make her sure that he choice was the best choice.

She wanted to forget she was Arya Stark and just embrace her new name. She wanted to surrender all at once and get used to the idea of becoming Arya Targaryen.

She clung to the hairs of his neck as she felt his tongue licking her. His lips kissing her between the legs and sucking every little drop. Arya closed her eyes tightly, feeling thevelvety hot tongue making continuous movements in and out, feeling the obscene kiss and receiving the gratefully the feeling of her mind and body disconnecting.

Before she had time to fully recover her senses, Jon was already inside her, sliding to the end and hitting her deeply. Someone was determined to not let her think about choices and not allow her to regret it for a minute.

As he moved inside her, seeking relief and seeking affirmation, Arya repeated his name like a pray until gradually "Jon" became "yes" on her vocal cords and on her tongue. Yes to that overwhelming and confusing feeling. Yes to his request. Yes to every damn clause in that silent agreement. Yes to the future that he offered. Yes to him and everything he represented, while her pleasure reached the summit along with him.

When he fell asleep Arya kept awake staring at his relaxed face while that confused feeling rooted within her. It was disconcerting to realize how much she was willing to give up to have him forever, or as long as possible.

She looked at the ring on her finger and felt her eyes sting again. The stone was red, like the blood which they shared, like their hearts tormented, like sin and passion. They said that the love between cousins lasted forever and for the first time she prayed that it was true.

**Smile like you mean it**

**Smile like you mean it**

**Smile like you mean it**

**Smile like you mean it**

Author's Note: Here it is. I hope you enjoy it despite the angst. Reviews make me happy and are highly appreciated =D.

Music: Smile like you mean it, The Killers. When I saw the clip, did not like being another.

Kisses

Bee


	4. Chapter 4

_**A love struck Romeo, sings the streets a serenade,**_

_**Laying everybody low, with a love song que he made**_

_**Finds a street light, steps out of the shade**_

_**Says something like, 'You and me babe, how about it?'**_

The newspaper published a note about a week before the wedding ceremony. Jon watched Arya reading and then crumpling the paper to throw it away. He didn't have to be a genius to figure out what was happening to her, yet the feeling of helplessness was too strong to be ignored.

The ruby ring was still on her finger. Several times he asked if she wanted to give up and the answer was always no. Robb left London without saying goodbye and without giving a second chance to dialogue. That was what was killing her inside and Jon couldn't do anything to change that.

Aemon was as pleased with the news as Robb, but at least the old man was helping with the wedding preparations. Actionists were anxious, but the shares' values remained stable, which left them more confident. Robb played fair and just like Eddard Stark, he had no pleasure in the misfortune of others.

Even though that was a futile effort, Jon insisted that all Stark were to be invited to the wedding and so far none of the cousins had the concern to reply the invitation. Arya would be alone when they made the vows and the wedding bands were exchange. None of her siblings would lift a glass to toast the bride and groom, or make the effort to wish her luck.

A discrete civil ceremony was the solution he found to minimize the emotional effect of her family absence, but Jon wasn't blind. The wedding dress was hanging in the wardrobe in her old room and more than once he saw her sitting on the bed, staring at the dress as if she was facing the hanging.

He had no doubt about her feelings, or that what they had was intense and precious, but he knew that Arya should never have to face that kind of situation. She insisted that she was sure about her choice and he could only admire her even more for the courage to throw it all away and stay with him.

At least he had some support. Daenerys Targeryen, his aunt, was thrilled with the idea of a wedding while his brother, Aegon, seemed happy to accept the invitation. Although they were not exactly close, they had never quarreled and that was all that Jon wanted form his best man.

It had been a year...

It was a bit shocking to realize that when they set the wedding date. It was a pretty short time for dating and even shorter to think of such definitive things.

It was the end of her mourning period, but Arya still had her moments of weakness and Jon noticed that they were becoming more frequent. He came to think of canceling everything and when he said that to Aemon, his great uncle putted some sense in him right away.

Marry Arya wouldn't make the Starks happy, but canceling the ceremony would be a bigger offense now that the wedding had been announced. Aemon was right and soon he putted the idea aside to keep the plan. However, he felt that wasn't enough and never would be unless she had some support when she was signing the bloody papers.

That was when he lost all notions of common sense and risked an international call.

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_**Juliet says, "Hey it's Romeo, you Nearly gave me a heartattack '**_

_**He's underneath the window, she's singing, 'Hey now, my boyfriend's back**_

_**You should not come around here, singing up to people like that '**_

_**Anyway, what you gonna do about it?**_

Robb could be the eldest, but sometimes Brandon Stark couldn't understand his brother's adamant temper. It was as if the world had ended, but after a long research on the internet, Bran was convinced that in England the marriage was perfectly legal and acceptable.

It wouldn't be easy to get used to the idea, but it wasn't the most absurd thing either. If Englishmen could, so he could also accept it for his sister's sake. Judging by what he remembered of his cousin, Jon was a great person, with a safe and structured life, who always liked Arya and treated her with respect, which was more than he could say about Sansa's ex-boyfriend.

Robb didn't want to talk about it and Jayne was trying to handle a suckling babe and a husband who was going through a regression to the age of seven. It was ridiculous and Bran tried to alert him about it a few times, but Robb could be as blind as a mole.

Rickon didn't understand what was happening. He understood even less when he asked about Arya and Robb leaved the room to not have to talk about it. When the invitation arrived, the older Stark refused to open the envelope and Jayne stared at the invitation and her husband without any idea about what to do with either of them.

Sansa called home at the same day to find out what it meant and Bran tried to inform her of what was happening in the best way possible. His sister repeated the same questions over and over, like a broken record until he lost patience. If he couldn't stand Sansa's talk and Robb, he could only grieve to imagine what Arya must be going through all by herself.

The days were passing fast and he couldn't tell what was Robb's decision about the matter would be. Particularly, he thought that at least one of the siblings should attend the wedding, but didn't feel the urge to talk about it.

Rickon began to ask much about England in those days. Bran suspected that he wasn't the only one worried about Arya and how she was dealing with everything. He came to look at the price of some passages, but if that trip was tiring for someone with the full use of their physical capacity, for a paraplegic it was much worse. He couldn't afford to go alone.

It was somewhere around five o'clock in the afternoon when the phone rang. Bran heard Robb muttering when he recognized the number and said to Jayne not to answer. Rickard was crying because of the noise. Rickon stared anxiously.

"Fuck you Robb!" Bran shouted answering the phone finally. "Hello."

"Please, I would like to speak with Mr. Stark." A deep voice said from the other side of the line "It is important."

"I think Robb is not very interested in what you have to say." Bran replied. "But if you want to talk to me I'm available, Jon."

"Bran? Is that you? Sorry, I barely recognized your voice." Jon said apologetic.

"Yes, it's me." Bran said quickly. "How are things going there?"

"Tumultuous." His cousin replied honestly. "I think you already know, at least vaguely guess, what it is going on."

"I can imagine so." Bran said. "How is Arya?"

"Angry, anxious, confused, hurt ... How can a woman be when she is going to marry and what was left of her family refuses even to answer her calls?" Jon said sternly.

"I'm sorry." Bran shrugged involuntarily. "It's about it that you want to talk to Robb?"

"What I want is some of you here. I don't care about what people think or not about my relationship with Arya, but I care about her." Jon said in a firm tone. "There's no need to give me your blessing, but at least don't leave her when she needs much support."

"Robb refuses talk about it. Jayne is trying to be diplomatic, but it being difficult." Bran said.

"What about the Sansa?" Jon insisted.

"I do not know if Sansa understood it yet." Bran ran a hand over his face feeling distressed. "Arya knows you are calling?"

"Of course not. I'm still at the office." He replied harshly. "I'm desperately trying to make some of you understand that this has nothing do with any perversion or pleasure in seeing someone else's misfortune."

"I would like to help, Jon." Bran replied sincerely, knowing how Arya would be upset if she knew that Jon was begging for a little understanding.

"Then do something for your sister." Jon spoke distressed. "She needs you."

Bran was silent for a while, trying to ponder what he should or should not do. Robb was grumbling for the whole house. Jayne was stuck in the kitchen with Rickard in her arm while Rickon was standing beside Bran, with eyes of the size of a plate.

"Fuck Robb and all this bullshit." Bran mumbled on the phone. "I'll call Sansa and try to convince her, if she doesn't want to go, then I'll go alone. It's my sister and I haven't seen her in a year. If Robb can't respect that then he can go straightly to hell.

"I can send the tickets if you want." Jon said immediately.

"Don't worry about it." Bran replied. "I will try to book my ticket as soon as possible. I'll send you news once I have the flight number."

"You have no idea how important this is to her." Jon seemed relieved on the other side of the line.

"It is important for you too." Bran replied. "I don't care if you're the son of an aunt who I never met, or the owner of the coffee shop. The only thing I care about is that you treat my sister with respect, otherwise I'll run over you with my wheelchair." He heard Jon stifle the laughter from the other side. "If she is happy with you I don't have the right to be an obstacle."

"Thank you, Bran." Jon said again.

"I'm not doing you a favor. I'm attending to my sister's wedding. Even so, there's that. You shall hear from me." Bran said then hung up.

Robb was behind him the next minute, looking like he had swallowed a box of hornets. Bran touched the wheelchair forward, without giving great importance to his older brother's face

"You won't go." Robb said seriously.

"Yes, I will." Bran said. "You can be my guardian but you don't have the power to change my opinion. You're being an asshole because you think Jon betrayed your trust. Guess what, I don't give a flying fuck about it. All I know is that you're punishing them and punishing yourself for something that no one has really controlling. They fell in love and these things don't happen overnight. Now get over it, Robb."

"He is our cousin and she our sister!" Robb for some reason thought it was the whole argument that he needed, but Bran ignored it solemnly.

"Glad you still remember that Arya is our sister. That's exactly why I'm going." Bran said seriously. "She made a choice, Robb. Don't think it's an easy choice. Let's assume that in two or three years you discover you have a nephew or niece. Our father would like to see his grandchildren running around this house as we did. Even our mother would like it. So stop thinking just about how you offended you feel and think about the future. This house is her home too."

Bran left the room toward his bedroom, which was on the first floor, ignoring anything that Robb had to say. He could hear Rickon's footsteps running behind him, until the two were inside the room they shared.

He gave his younger brother a curious look, as the boy ran to the closet and grabbed some clothes and throw it on the bed.

"What are you doing?" Bran asked as Rickon kept running all over the room.

"I'm packing." He said. "It's cold in London, isn't it?"

"Rickon..."

"She is my sister too." The younger answered before Bran could say anything. "The more Starks the better, isn't it? And Arya likes me more than she likes Sansa."

Bran had no time to answer. Someone knocked on the door and they both turned to face Jayne, who had just entered. The sister in law shrugged and stared at her shoes before looking at the Stark boys.

"Someone needs help with the packing?" Bran smiled satisfied with the offer. Maybe Robb was not lost cause, after all.

_**Juliet, the dice was loaded from the start,**_

_**And I bet, then you exploded into my heart,**_

_**And I forget, I forget, the movie song**_

_**When you gonna realize, it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet?**_

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_**Come up on different streets, They Both were streets of shame,**_

_**Both dirty, Both mean, yes, and the dream was just the same-,**_

_**And I dreamed your dream for you, and now your dream is real**_

_**How can you look at me as if I was just another one of your deals?**_

She liked Daenerys. It was easy to like someone intelligent and humorous trying to help her in every way, when Arya had no idea how to plan a wedding, or how to feel when the judge was on his way and guests thronged to find a good place to watch the ceremony.

It was a small room, decorated in the finest way. Among the invited there were few of Jon's friends, some friends she had made in London over a year and what was left of the Targaryen family, which boiled down to Aemon, Daenerys and her husband, Drogo; and Aegon, Jon's brother.

From her family no one had come. Uncle Edmure and Aunt Lysa had sent gifts that she believed were mere courtesies from relatives with whom she never had contact. Daenerys was playing the role of her best friend, sister and improvised maid of honor as she felt her stomach churn and eyes water.

She looked in the mirror and could scarcely believe the reflected image. Couture white dress, fascinator on her head and professional makeup that she expected to be water approved in because of the flood of tears she was trying to contain. Her hands trembled as Arya tried to hold the damn bouquet of red roses. The ring glittered on her finger. This was madness, but now it was too late to run out and say that she had changed her mind.

Arya closed her eyes and tried to think of Jon. How he was as nervous as she was and how he had dreamed of this moment. She tried to remember that first kiss on the empty room. The first time they made love and how he made her shiver inside. She couldn't deny that she loved him, but to enter that hall, say 'I do.' and break away with her childhood, her family and all her previous notion of security was more than she could handle.

She wished her father was there, smiling at her with tears in his eyes for having to conduct his youngest daughter down the aisle. Or that her mother was at her side, tucking the fascinator on her head and making sure that the makeup was right. She wanted Bran and Rickon trying to make her laugh and Robb offering her a sip of whiskey to calm her nerves. She even wanted Sansa around to compliment the dress and reproach her for not choosing a traditional long princess like dress.

Thinking about all of them made her heart tighten and the knot in her throat tightened further. Maybe if she gave up and went back to America for a few months, solved the problem with her family and ... No, that would be cruel and would be like mock Jon's every effort to make her happy.

Arya was happy. She was going to marry the guy of her dreams. Her childhood sweetheart, her best friend, her prince charming and yet ... No one ever said that her happiness would be complete.

She didn't think much when someone opened the door of the room where she was preparing. She assumed it was the organizer announcing that it was time for her to enter. Arya gasped and clutched the bouquet tighter.

"You are beautiful." A female voice spoke behind her and was so familiar that Arya come to think if it was a dream. She opened her eyes and saw the girl's slender and elegant figure, with auburn hair and beautiful blue eyes that stared with fascination.

"Sansa?" She gasped as she realized. "What ... Heaven! What are you doing here?"

"It's your wedding. What do you think I'm doing here if not helping my younger sister to not freak out? What kind of sister do you think I am?" She said going to the bride and drying the tears that threatened to drain from the corner of Arya's eyes.

"Is anyone else here?" Arya asked, not knowing what else she could do.

"Well, I'm here. Bran and Rickon are out there waiting for you. It was all a bit last minute, but you'll have to be content to enter the hall led by one of them." Sansa made sure that the fascinator was in the right place before facing Arya. "Robb refused to come. He wouldn't even talk about it, but Jayne sent her best wishes to you and Jon.

"Are you not mad at me or something?" Arya questioned stunned while Sansa took two steps back and pondered what he should say.

"I can't say that it wasn't shocking to receive the news." Sansa said honestly. "I was stunned when I heard. And honestly ... Getting married is a huge step for someone with a structured life. For a girl of eighteen ... It is almost inconceivable. Of course we were worried and confused with all the information, but this is you. I'll be surprise at the day you decide to follow the protocol. You're not pregnant, are you? I will be very angry with you for your irresponsibility, if it's the case!

"No!" Arya said quickly. "Of course not! And I don't intend to be so soon, if that's what worries you."

"Great." Sansa smiled at her briefly. "Tell me something. From all people of the world, why him? Why Jon?"

Arya stepped back and sat on the bed covered with gifts and makeup paraphernalia. She looked at her sister and measured her own words for a moment.

"Remember when you used tell me stories about princess and I said I hated it?" She tested.

"Of course it do." Sansa replied.

"I hated because they made me think of him." Arya replied shrugging. "I never liked being a girl because I thought I was missing most of the fun but when I heard those stories… I wanted to grow up to be a girl that Jon could admire. I wished he was my prince charming, but I knew it was a silly dream. Jon was older than me and he was my cousin to make things worse, but he never ceased to be the knight in shining armor in my silly fantasies. Even though I'd rather die in denial at the time. I didn't choose it, Sansa. I didn't choose to fall in love that way with the most unlikely person in the world, but he never gave me reason to regret".

"So you are sure you really want to marry him?" Sansa asked sitting next to her sister. Arya shook her head.

"I'm not sure of anything. This is probably the biggest mistake I ever made in my life, but I know that the man who is waiting for me outside is the best man in the world and I love him." Arya replied firmly. "I'm giving him a guarantee that no one will separate us again, because it's the least I can do to repay all that he did and still do for me. This will work out? I have no idea. I hope so."

"You were always the most courageous, weren't you?" Sansa said stroking his sister's face. "It's your wedding after all. It couldn't be less dramatic than this. Dad dreamed of a day like this for both of us. It's a pity he is not here now."

"What Mom would say?" Arya asked finally.

"That a young girl from a good family would never get married wearing a short dress. That Jon is a jerk and a treacherous snake who stole her little girl away, but in the end she would cry with emotion during the ceremony." Sansa replied.

"I count on you to do all this." Arya said laughing. "Thank you for coming. Thank you for everything." Sansa hugged her.

"You should thank Jon for having the courage to call and put a bit of sense in all of us. And thank Bran for being such a sensible person." Sansa replied. "Now come on. There's a groom about to go hysteric outside. We can't give the poor Jon a heart act.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_**When you can fall for chains of silver, you can fall for chains of gold**_

_**You can fall for pretty strangers and the promises They hold**_

_**You promised me everything, you promised me thick and thin, yeah**_

_**Now you just say, 'Oh Romeo, yeah, you know I used to have ascene with him'**_

Aegon had offered him at least two doses of whiskey to control his anxiety, but it wasn't working. The guests were all already present. Aemon stared at him with solemn face, sitting in the front row, next to Sam. Sansa and Arya were talking at that very moment.

He thought that the presence of her siblings would help, but he was wrong. Jon was sure that when he asked if she accepted him as her lawful husband, Arya would have plenty of reasons to say no, get her stuff and go back to America.

Robb refused to show up, but at least Jayne was smart and caring enough to send a gift on behalf of the two and a letter written by her own hand wishing them happiness.

Bran appeared a few minutes later, dragging his wheelchair to sit next to Drogo, which was something visually uncomfortable. Dany's husband was a real two feet tall troglodyte. Bran smiled toward him in an attempt to encourage him. Jon thought he should consider that as a good sign.

"It's a relief to know that no groom has ever died from anxiety on his wedding day." Aegon said laughing beside him. "You should have more confidence in her, you know?"

"I have. I just can't pretend that this is not something shocking to deal with when you have eighteen years old." Jon said quickly.

"Your mother wasn't older than that when she accepted." Aegon insisted. "And our father had been married before. Relax, Jon. Stark girls don't run away from the fight, they jump inside it, which makes me think that if your other cousin, Sansa, is unattended."

"Are you really interested in opening the hunting season to Targaryens? Robb already has plenty of reasons to want my head, if I were you I would stay away from Sansa." Jon said quickly.

"Just a thought." Aegon shrugged. "You can't deny that the woman is spectacular. I wouldn't mind to have fun for a few hours, but I think you chose the interesting sister. She seems less inhibited and more creative, which must be the reason why you are wearing this suit today and I am merely the best man."

"You're not helping." Jon hissed and Aegon laughed.

"Wrestle with me later. There is a girl in white at the end of the hall and I think she's staring at you."Aegon smiled when the entrance music began to play, announcing the arrival of the Bride. "Breathe."

Jon looked directly at her, while all the guests were standing to see her walk down the small altar. Of all the improbable dreams and all selfish desires, that was one he couldn't repent.

She walked with uncertain steps, hand in hand with Rickon, who insisted on behaving like a perfect gentleman, as he drove his sister. The short dress matched her rebellious spirit, without being vulgar or inappropriate. The fascinator screen falls over her eyes like a veil, making them mysterious. The mouth was red, matching the bouquet and the engagement ring. She was a vision, his favorite dream, his muse.

Rickon stopped a few steps before the altar, waiting for Jon to come to him to receive the bride. He walked up to them and greeted the younger cousin, who smiled proud of his participation in the ceremony, while handing Arya's hand to him. Jon kissed her hand, before leading her to the altar, which was but a festooned table where the probate judge had placed the log book.

"You are beautiful." He whispered to her urgently, while the judge spoke about the importance of marriage to society and all those sentimental things you expect to hear in a ceremony like that.

It was all very fast, as if all the anxiety and nervousness were all anesthetized for half an hour. All he could feel was her presence beside him. The judge asked them to speak their vows and exchanged the rings. Arya repeated the words with more security in those three minutes than she had shown in the last three weeks. She slid the ring through his finger and smiled a crooked smile at him.

He did the same. Said his vows, put the ring on her hand and kissed her fingers then. They leaned over the table to sign the log book, along with the witnesses. Then they were declared husband and wife.

He kissed her without shame and without regret. Arya matched the kiss promptly, entwining his neck with her arms. The guests applauded, there was a general mess, but Jon couldn't notice anything. All he wanted was to seize that moment, that vain certainty that their happiness would last forever. It was an innocent hope which he clung fervently.

When the kiss broke, Arya was smiling. When the kiss broke, he was sure that all would be well.

_**Juliet When we made love you used to cry**_

_**You said I love you like the stars above, I'll love you till I die**_

_**There's a place for us, you know the movie song**_

_**When you gonna realize, it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet**_?

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Are you sure you don't want to leave the wedding night for tomorrow?" She suggested as he pulled his pants clumsily, desperate to jump on the bed. Arya stared him, wearing nothing but lingerie set that he suspected to be the work of Daenerys and Sansa. He needed to thank them later.

"And postpone our first official night? Never!" He said finally managing to get rid of pants.

She stared him for a few seconds with evaluative eyes and he felt all the blood in his body going to his erection. That would be the most vexatious wedding night in history and Arya wasn't helping one iota with that grin.

"You should wear black underwear more often. It's a really good vision." She teased.

"I assure you that I'm having a much better view from here." He said looking at her with lust, pure and simple.

Jon climbed into bed and kissed her hungrily. She tasted like champagne and Swiss chocolate cake. Arya kissed him immediately and in response to all his excitement, dug her nails into his ass, making him laugh between her lips.

"Are you ready for me, Mrs. Targaryen?" He asked hoarsely next to her ear and Arya laughed.

"Praying that you don't end up sleeping on top off me after all that whiskey. Seriously, you and Aegon must have dried two whole bottles." She said as he kissed her neck down to her breasts, still shrouded in black lace bra she wore.

"Bran helped too, but he made me promise that I wouldn't tell to anyone." He kissed the valley between her breasts. "Dear God, I love who gave you this set." Then his fingers were busy unbuttoning the piece and throwing it away. "But I love your breasts more."

She laughed between a moan and another, as he kissed every inch of her hot skin and clung everywhere, as if he was trying to map it with his hands. Jon pined her down on the bed and placed himself between her legs. He stopped kissing her to look her straight in the eye.

A year ago they had lived that scene. At that time he was insecure, lost between guilt and fear while Arya was lonely and desperate for love and security. Arya kissed him, breaking his train of drunk thought. She was asking for attention and desire for warmth and satisfaction.

Those children who exchanged gifts and secret kisses hidden in an empty room no longer existed. Only a vague shadow, an outline of the dreams they had at the time, which were just foolish hopes and meaningless fantasies that remained. A chance for them which they clung to like a lifeboat.

Those children grew up, as well as the passion they shared.

The nudity was not a problem, nor was the touch or the taste which provoked confusing sensations every time they tangled in one another in an effort to consume the passion all at once. It was an extraordinary sensation of feeling as someone's other half and finding fulfillment.

She closed her eyes tightly as she felt him inside. It wasn't something new, it wasn't unexpected, it wasn't the first time, but it was intense and overwhelming nonetheless. Jon was looking inside her for a part of himself he had lost nine years ago and received in exchange a portion of her, hot, throbbing, sweet and unique.

It was never the same and it was never less than before. They feed on each other and that feeling didn't subside or got worn out. Creative forces were clashing against each other and recreating that passion, that love, constantly.

Jon lost count of how many times he kissed her that night, lost track of the marks and scratches left on the skin of one another. He ignored the past, the doubts, the fears and guilt, to focus on a future that began at that moment. The feeling of anticipation and growing need within themselves, waiting for her to give in to pleasure first. She called his name and surrendered without reservation.

She called him at the last moment and dragged him into her depths like a mighty wave dragging a castaway. He kissed her several times while recovering his senses fully.

He rolled over and grabbed her by the waist. Arya was carried away by it, without being physically able to offer any resistance.

"Are you happy?" He asked kissing her mouth then.

"Do I have the right to not be happy?" She replied. "You worked the miracle to convince almost all my siblings to attend. You turned the world upside down for me. You've been on my side at all the difficult moments and were the protagonist of all the good ones. I cannot be happy?"

"There is always a possibility." He said smiling. "I love you, you know?"

"And I love you." She replied. "Despite all the doubts, all fears, all reproach. Thank you, Jon. Thanks for everything."

"You have the rest of our lives to compensate me for the effort." He said, laughing, as she felt his kisses on her neck.

"I will." Arya replied convinced. "But changing the subject. Did you see what happened to Sansa by the end of the party?"

"I saw her getting out of the hall with Aegon." Jon replied laughing. "What do you think?"

"Robb will need a good health insurance." Arya replied. "My sister and your brother, this is getting confusing."

"Not as much as Bran crumpled back to the hotel that way. I think the reason why he did not load Meera Reed along with him was because he's rooming with Rickon." Jon said satisfied. "Maybe he will come to London more often because of her."

"That would be nice." Arya nodded smiling.

"I'm sorry about Robb." Jon said staring into her eyes.

"Eventually we will have to reach an agreement." She said, laying her head on his chest. "I do not think he'll insist on this fight for long, not when even Bran has been on our side. We just need to give him time."

_**I can not do the talks, like They talk on the TV**_

_**And I can not do a love song, like the way it's meant to be**_

_**I can not do everything, but I'll do anything for you**_

_**I can not do anything 'cept be in love with you**_

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_**And all I do is miss you and the way we used to be**_

_**All I do is keep the beat, and bad company**_

_**And all I do is kiss you, through the bars of a rhyme**_

_**Juliet I'd do the stars with you, anytime**_

Four years later ...

It was a shock to hear Bran saying that Robb agreed to go to London during his vacations. Jon didn't know what to expect but he was happy anyway. Arya was graduating and that would be a gift for her, after four years without talking to her older brother.

Jon had no illusions about regaining his childhood friend, but he would be satisfied with a truce. The question now was whether or not to tell her the news, but he felt particularly inclined to surprise her.

The phone rang in the office and his secretary answered, going up to him the next minute.

"Mrs. Targaryen asks if you will accompany her today." The secretary said.

"Please tell Arya that I'm already on my way home to pick her up." Jon answered and the message was sent to her immediately.

He left the office in a hurry, only stopping at Aemon's office to ensure that all was well with his centenary uncle. He still had to discover what the secret of his uncle longevity was.

Aemon received him smiling contentedly.

"What do I owe the honor of the visit?" He asked humorous.

"I'm leaving early to take Arya to the doctor." Jon said excitedly. "I'll call later to tell you the news."

"I'll wait anxiously!" Aemon replied. "Now go get your woman. Fast Boy!"

Jon needed no further incentive. He went out of the office in a hurry toward the car and drove through the busy streets of London drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Arya was waiting in the lobby of the building and he couldn't help laughing at the sight of the effort she made to conceal her stomach.

As soon as he stopped the car, she came and sat beside him in the passenger seat. She hated dresses, but that was the only thing that seemed to not bother her lately. Arya seemed upset for some reason.

"Why the long face?" He asked as he drove the car and starting the infernal traffic.

"My ankles are swollen, my back hurts and thank God I'll wear a gown during the graduation, which is probably the only clothing that will suit me. I'll be lucky if I do not fall trying to get my diploma." She replied moody. "And the little one here decided to kick all day."

"A football player, maybe?" Jon offered a guess smiling.

"No doubt. Whatever it is, it's going to be a troublesome one." She said, laughing at his enthusiasm.

"What do you think that is? Boy or girl?" He asked.

"I have no idea, but I prefer a boy." She said putting her hand to her grown belly. "Little Ned, what do you think?"

"I'd like that, but ..." He threw her a mischievous look. "You know that I want a girl."

"This is a plot between you and Sansa. You think I do not know she's dying to land here with tons of miniature dresses and bows? I can even see. A true contraband." Arya said rolling her eyes as Jon laughed and parked the car. "I will not even mention the nursery. I swear if I have to spend most of my days looking at pink walls, I will get sick again."

"We can always paint the room another color." He said, helping her out of the car. "Purple seems a good alternative?"

"It's better than pink." Arya agreed. "Blue, if it's a boy."

"Don't you prefer green?" He offered.

"Any color but yellow." And that was the end of discussion.

He sat at waiting room while the clinic attendant helped Arya to go to the bathroom. He was eager and his leg would not stop shaking. He drank five glasses of water in less than ten minutes and flipped through a magazine without paying attention to a single photo.

He accompanied her to the examination room where a doctor was waiting for her. Jon helped Arya to lie down on the stretcher and every gesture of the doctor was observed with extreme care by him.

"Is it the first child?" The doctor asked as he passed the weird gel over Arya's round belly.

"Yes, it is." Jon said quickly.

"And he's about to have a nervous breakdown if you didn't tell him that everything is fine with the baby and especially sex." Arya said as he winced, feeling the cold gel against her skin.

"So far, so good." The doctors laughed. "Have you done all the medical accompaniment?"

"Yes, she has." Jon hastened to say again. "Even when she complains that I'm being paranoid, I don't let her miss any appointment."

"You're not being paranoid, you're paranoid. They are totally different things." Arya laughed.

"At least you have enough support at home, so I'm seeing." The doctor smiled. "How long are you married?"

"Four years." - Arya said while staring at the monitor, trying to unravel some of the images on the screen.

"Wow! It's been a while! I thought they were newlyweds, since you are so young." The average said, staring at the monitor too. Jon was holding his wife's hand, concentrate on seeing the contours of the child, but without success.

"Can you see anything?" He asked.

"Gives yes. I'm just taking some measures." Replied the doctor. "The development is normal. Everything as expected. And this is the heart beating." Strong and rhythmic sound filled the room and he felt Arya squeezing his hand tightly. "Congratulations. It's a girl."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

_**Oh Juliet When we made love you used to cry**_

_**You said I love you like the stars above, I'll love you till iDie**_

_**There's a place for us, you know the movie song**_

_**When you gonna realize, it was just that the time was wrong, Juliet?**_

It was almost summer and Robb sat in the waiting room of the hospital, while Jayne held his hand affectionately. Bran had gone out to buy a coffee and Rickon was at the hotel with Rickard. Sansa was embroidering a washcloth on the other side of the room, as everyone waited outside. He heard that Daenerys Targaryen was on her way to the hospital but Aegon couldn't attend.

What a mess he had gotten himself into. Four years without seeing his sister and things ended well. She married Jon and he became the villain of the story, but one day someone would have to understand that it was too much for him to accept that his cousin, his best friend, his almost brother, had led Arya to the altar in such way a sneaky way.

There was nothing sneaky about it and even he had to admit it. The signs were always very clear, but no one had ever bothered to understand what they meant. It made more sense to extend that discussion to another time. Bran was right in the end. Arya was still their sister and had the right to demand that her children to be treated as grandchildren of Eddard and Catelyn Stark.

He closed his eyes and thought about how his mother would be anxious to see her first granddaughter. His father would probably be euphoric, worth saying that he would let scape a nervous laugh once in a while. And he would be an uncle.

In the end, Arya couldn't attend the graduation. The child came early and Robb was lucky to arrive in London at the very morning. He hadn't had time to talk with his sister, when he learned what had happened Arya was already at the hospital.

A nurse came into the waiting room. Blood-stained clothing and shaggy hair. She looked around and went to him immediately.

"Are you Robb Stark?" She asked. Robb stood up at once.

"Yes, I am. Did anything happen?" He asked afflicted.

"Your sister asked you to come to meet your niece." The nurse smiled at him and Robb felt his heart calm down.

When he entered the room his eyes fell directly on Arya, ignoring Jon's presence in the room. Obviously she was exhausted, but well enough for someone who had just spent six hours in labor. It hurt to realize that he had lost a good part of her life during those years. He didn't see her getting married. He only knew she was attending university through Bran and received the news that she was pregnant when Sansa told him last Christmas.

She was different too. Her face had lost any childish trace, her hair was longer, her facial features were more harmonious and beautiful now. Arya smiled at him a lopsided smile.

"You look terrible." She said.

"Says who?" He said sourly. "You look like you were hit by a truck."

"A five pounds and fifty centimeters size truck." Arya said proudly. "Good to see you here, Robb."

"Glad to see that you look well." He said with tears in his eyes. "I missed you, sis."

"And I you." She nodded and then reached out to Jon asking him to give her the wrapping blankets he had in his arms. "You won't monopolize her." Arya quarreled with her husband and Jon laughed.

"I can and I will." He teased and kissed his wife's forehead. "I made her."

"I refuse to discuss your participation in the process. Now will you please give me my daughter?" She said laughing and Jon obeyed. Arya snuggled the girl on her arm and looked at the baby with pride throughout the world. "Come here, Robb. There's someone I want you to meet."

Robb went to them and leaned to see the tiny face, partially hidden between the covers. The skin was clear and on her head a dark and wavy fluff. Pinkies were closed in a tiny fist, as she slept with her hand in her mouth. She was all Stark without a single coppery hair of her maternal grandmother, or the platinum blonde of her father's family. The girl was all Stark.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Jon asked proud, while puffed his chest.

"Yes, she is beautiful." It was the first time he and Robb agreed in four years. "What name will you give her?"

"Lyanna." Arya replied stroking her little daughter's head. " Lyanna Catelyn Targaryen."

"Mom would like that." He agreed. "She looks like you when you were born."

"She surely will be as troublesome as I was." Arya laughed. "Six hours and still refused to come out of me, this is not something you do to her own mother."

Soon the nurse came to take the baby to the nursery and asked that Jon and Robb leave to let the mother rest. They obeyed promptly and when they were outside, Jon could finally remove the sterile clothing he had worn throughout the delivery.

"Care for a drink? There's a pub across the street." Jon offered, guessing that Robb would give anything for a drink at the time.

He agreed and the two went to the pub across the street. Two glasses of whiskey appeared before them rapidly and Jon took from his pocket two Cuban cigars and a cutter for the tip.

He offered one to Robb who accepted immediately, placing it between his lips. He generally disliked tobacco, but this was a special occasion. They clinked glasses and amounted cigars, giving long drags.

"Cheers!" Robb raised his glass in salute.

"I can't believe I'm a father now." Jon said, looking ecstatic.

"You will believe it when she wakes up hungry in the middle of the night." Robb said laughing. "Don't get me wrong, I loved it when I could hold Rickard between my hands, but my nights of sleep are much better now." Jon laughed.

"Thanks for coming. You have no idea how much she suffered during these last few years because of that whole discussion." Jon said sincerely.

"What would have never happened if you were not the most treacherous bastard that ever walked the earth." Robb hastened to say. "I can't say that I understand, not that I think the whole situation is normal, but I have to admit it was good for her. Arya had everything to become a problem after my parents died. I don't know how to managed it, but you gave her some serenity to her mind.

"I'll take it as a compliment." Jon said leaving the glass aside.

"You should." Robb responded by doing the same. "You were like a brother to me, you know? I still saw you as a brother when I found out you were together. It was like seeing Arya with Bran. Disturbing."

"I thought the same thing for a few years." Jon admitted. "Don't think that you were the only one who had trouble dealing with it all. You have no idea how many times I blamed myself, or how many times I've been afraid that Arya give up of me in exchange for having her family back. I still think she just said yes because Sansa, Bran and Rickon appeared at the wedding, otherwise I would have stayed at the altar."

"Sorry about the punch and for calling you a bastard." Robb finally said. "And for not attending your wedding and everything. I don't agree with it, but there is a limit to how far someone can pretend to be blind."

"There is nothing to apologize for, at least not on my part. In your place I think would do the same." Jon spoke. "Arya is another matter entirely. She even scolds you, you know?"

"I can imagine." Robb laughed.

"And every time we fight, which is not exactly a rare thing to happen, she likes to shout that she should have listened to you when she had the chance." Robb laughed out loud.

"My sister... As lovely as always." Robb drank the last sip of whiskey. "Shit! Why do you have to be such a nice guy? It would be easier to be angry with you if you were like one of Sansa's boyfriends."

"You never understood that Arya was always the smart one in the family. She chose the nice guy." Jon caused.

"Not to mention the rich and less likely to go bald or fat. Yeah, Arya was always pretty smart." They laughed. "You seduced my little sister, but I can't stay mad at you. Worse now you're the father of my niece, so I guess I'm bound to say that you're welcome in this family."

"Thank you, Stark." Jon replied satisfied. "But I warn you that if your child is caught stealing kisses from my daughter in a few years, I'll make Cat Stark look like an angel." The two laughed together.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Lyanna's first Christmas was quite an event. It was Aemon's last Christmas and at least the family patriarch had the chance to meet his niece/granddaughter. It was also the first Christmas they spent at the house with French windows, with a large yard, but no dogs yet.

Bran was moving to London thanks to a job offer from Jon. He took Meera to join the supper and announced their engagement after dessert. Rickard was running around the room, playing with his gifts. Sansa sat with Lyanna in her lap, trying to teach her niece to speak "aunt."

Jayne helped Arya to organize the dinner. Daenerys also appeared with her son and husband. Aegon thought about not showing up to avoid a conflict between him, Sansa and Robb, but passed by to give his niece her present and a hug to his brother and sister-in-law.

Rickon swapped a juice glass for one of wine by accident and ended up sleeping in the couch, making Robb angry and making Jon laugh uncontrollably, remembering an occasions where the two of them ended up getting in trouble because of drinking. Jayne was curious and asked for details, but Robb prevented Jon to open his mouth about it.

Eddard and Catelyn were missed, as well as Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar, however, the picture of the two couples was in a frame on the mantelpiece as saintly figures, watching the children.

When all the guests were gone, Arya put Lyanna to sleep and Jon helped her to remove the dishes and put them in the sink.

The house was quiet, the fire was lit and both of them exhausted, but they lay on the couch holding each other in silence for a while, just watching the fire dancing before them. It was snowing outside and Arya was almost asleep on his chest.

"That was the happy ending you dreamed of?" He asked kissing her face, while Arya rested her head on his shoulder.

"No." she said. "This one is better."

_**And a love struck Romeo, sings the streets a serenade,**_

_**Laying everybody low, with a love song que he made**_

_**Finds a convenient street light, steps out of the shade**_

_**Says something like, 'You and me babe, how about it?'**_

_**'You and me babe, how about it?'**_

Author's note: I know it has been a while since the last chapter, but finaly I was able to finish this translation. I hope you enjoy it and don't think the end is to lame and cliché (which probably is).

Chapter's Music: Romeo and Juliet by The Killers.

I hope you enjoyed the end.

Bee


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